In it for the Long Haul
by SaiyanQueenVega
Summary: After a summer of startling changes the new fivesome must face the challenges that come with being the new kids at school in North Park. UPDATED CH8! And all Stan and Kyle can do is try to pick up the pieces of the life of Kenny McCormick. *DISCONTINUED*
1. What about the Future?

**_In it for the Long Haul_**

**Chapter 1:**

"What about the Future?"

_Disclaimer_:

Usually when I write a story I would attach a disclaimer to each chapter and come up with something witty to make it interesting each time. But frankly I think that writing this story is very draining on my creative fuse already so this is it for this story...

Ahem I don't claim to own South Park. From Kenny all the way down to Mr. Twig, they all belong to Mr. Matt and Trey.

_Chapter Rating_:

PG

_Story Notes_:

Now that the disclaimer is out of the way lets get on to more important information. This story is going to be a long one, possibly around 12 chapters and an epilogue. So if you're looking for a drabble or a one-shot this isn't the place you'll find one, sorry. This story will also contain some slash... now don't run away yet those with stomachs that are weak about that sort of thing! There is no slash content in this story that would bypass a PG rating. I'm not writing porn here people. I know I can't write it well, and this site doesn't need another badly written PWP... I am also not revealing the pairing. Where's the fun in that? There WILL be a few scenes in this story that I would rate somewhere in the PG13-R scale and of course there will be course language used. Each chapter will be rated separately so that none of you kiddies will be warped. (Though if you like South Park enough to be reading fanfic then I don't really need to worry about that) This covers my ass! Chapters will be in differing points of view. Some will be covered entirely by one person other chapters will switch when needed.

And finally I love to hear what others think of my writing. So feel free to leave a review, praise, or CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. Flames I simply post on a variety of web sites for other writers to laugh at...

_Kenny's POV_:

There are many people who curse alphabetical seating arrangements...just not me. But I suppose next year in 9th grade they'll stop acting like we're children and let us pick our own seats. I don't really give a rat's ass because alphabetical seating still leaves me sitting next to one of my best friends. Marsh and McCormick work nicely together for that.

It's strange, but if you held up a copy of Stan's 4th grade school picture and compared it to Stan today you'd think you were looking at a mirror. Oh, sure he's gotten taller. We all have. But Stan still has the same fashion sense and love for blue, the same hat hair, and the same.. innocent look to his face. He still looks like he hasn't seen terrible things happen. But Stan has changed a bit. He's toned up a lot because of football and he also towers above me and Kyle and Eric.

Speaking of Eric, there's a person who hates alphabetization. It puts him right next to Kyle, and there isn't a week that has went by for the last 3 years that he hasn't bitched about it. Eric has developed into a sort of lackluster example of growing into your body. While the baby fat has mostly gone from his face, making it him semi-handsome, the rest of him has simply gone from obese to just plain fat. But it's still quite an improvement. By now he's probably of average height, but it's hard to judge because of Stan. I'd always pictured Eric as the short one of the group... what ever. He has also now developed a bit of fashion sense that helps hide his large frame. The baggy look was MADE for Eric Cartman!

Sitting next to Eric is the last of my friends. Kyle... now there's a person that you wouldn't recognize if you'd left the country for a year and then saw him again! Kyle had gone through this phase at the beginning of the school year...he just showed up at the bus stop one Monday morning without his trademark green hat. And I can personally vouch that I saw Eric swallow his tong, because Kyle's normally carefully hidden red 'Jew fro' was now streaked with electric blue stripes and spiked on the bangs to stand up at all different angles. But even more shocking was the shiny golden stud in his nose, from which a tiny Star of David hung. The shit-eating grin on Kyle's face while Eric picked his jaw up out of the snow is one of those things I'll never forget. From what he'd told us there had been a small war at his house when he'd shown up home like that the previous Friday night. But teenage hormones had apparently helped Kyle grow a spine when it came to his mother and he'd finally told her that she'd been a real bitch to him for years and he wasn't going to be completely under her thumb any longer. And he'd told her that if she forced him to change anything back he would do something much worse and more permanent the next time he got out of her sight. And apparently it worked because he's still showing up looking the exact same. But underneath he's still the same Kyle. The brains and the morals of our group.

While I watch our homeroom teacher handing out some packets I reflect on how different I am from my friends. I'm easily the shortest and skinniest guy in the 8th grade. Hell I'm smaller than a lot of the 6th graders. I guess dying so often when I was a kid messed up something, or maybe not eating enough... My hair eventually got too long for me to stuff into a parka hood comfortably so when I was forced to steal a new jacket I got one without a hood. By now I can't really remember why I wore my old hood up all the time to begin with. And of course I'm still poor and still living at home where dad still gets drunk every night...

I'm pulled out of those thoughts when a packet plunks down on my desk. Jesus H. Christ this had better not be a test, the thing's huge! The title of the packet, "_North Park Senior High School Course Selection_", dose little to quell the nervousness that has developed suddenly in my chest. Everyone in South Park knows that our little town doesn't have a high school, but it never really sunk in with me until that moment. We'd be getting bussed 45 minutes to North Park where the hierarchy that we've worked so hard for all these years would mean squat. We'd be outsiders for the next 4 years. But the nervousness isn't just from that thought. This packet meant that today we'd be picking classes. Picking classes that would affect the rest of our lives. No pressure and thanks for all the warning, fucking bitch!

Next to me Stan has a similar look of dread on his face as his eyes quickly dart between his packet and a desk farther toward the back of the classroom. Wendy Testaburger. That's another thing that's changed since we got into middle school. Stan and Wendy ended up getting back together around the middle of 6th grade and have been together ever since. It's not hard to understand why Stan is panicking. High school required classes are split into 3 categories; Advanced (A) Normal (N) and Developmental (D), and since Wendy is like the 3rd smartest person in this school she'll likely want to get into more 'A' classes than Stan. It's one thing to stay together in middle school and quite another thing to stay together through high school without classes together. Right now I bet he's praying that this isn't going to be one of those 'sit quietly and make your own decisions' things so he'll get a chance to talk to Wendy.

As I finally open my packet Mrs. Oakley thankfully tells us that we'll be given the rest of the day to make our decisions amongst ourselves. Stan bolts up and nearly knocks my desk over rushing toward Wendy. Talk about pussy whipped... I just sigh and drag my desk to where Kyle and Eric are sitting.

Kyle smiles weakly at me and motions toward Stan. "9 years of friendship. Good to know where his priorities are" he jokes.

"Well you don't fuck him" I point out, adding the appropriate hand gesture. "So I'd say he has them about right."

"I wouldn't be so sure that Jew boy isn't providing certain services for Stan" Eric adds smirking. Kyle and I simply roll our eyes.

I pull out a tattered notebook that was at one time meant to keep notes in. Skipping past my doodles and poetry I find a mostly blank page and rip it out. Taking my pencil from behind my ear I flip the packet open and begin the process of reading up on this school. Bla bla bla, no tolerance policy, bla bla bla, detention policy, bla bla bla, lunch cost, bla bla bla. I skim through all the bullshit about the school and 9 pages later I find myself staring at Math. This makes me look back up at Kyle. He's our school's resident math wiz. He already took Pre-Algebra last year, and Algebra this year, so he's like a year ahead of the rest of us. According to the packet Algebra is the math class that everyone is required to take... I suppose that he'll just end up with the 10th graders.

"Dude this is awesome" Eric blurts out. "All someone has to do is take all the 'D' classes and it's like an easy ride through high school"

"That's stupid Cartman." Kyle fires back, looking up from his own packet. He's on the math section too. "Everyone would think your retarded or something... and besides the school can override something like that if they catch on."

"Damnit"

"And chicks don't date guys that don't have any brains. You need to take some harder classes to impress them. And you won't get anywhere in life if you slack through ALL of school. You've already pissed away elementary and middle school." I add helpfully.

"I suppose you'd know all about how not to get anywhere in life Kenny. Especially with a father like yours" Eric spits back. A two day old dull ache on my upper arm burns to life at this to remind me of the man in question. I ignore both the stab of pain and the remark.

"Cartman would never make it through any of the advanced classes anyway Kenny."

"Fuck you."

I grin at the age old conflict. "Are you willing to put money on that Cartman?" Kyle whispers as Mrs. Oakley passes us. I tune out the rest as I turn back to my packet. Knowing that I'm only average on a good day at math I scratch 'N Algebra' on my sheet of paper and skip to the next section. English. I smile. English is the one of the few things that I'm actually good at in school. I write 'A English' on my paper just in time to see Stan pull his chair up and interrupt the argument between Kyle and Eric.

"What did I miss?"

"Cartman has just agreed to actually take an advanced class next year" Kyle snickers. "I bet him $100 that he won't be able to make it through and pass…" Kyle is interrupted by the lunch bell and the subject is abruptly dropped while we filed out.

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As I sit at lunch picking at my food I keep flipping through the class lists. I was never all that good at speaking in front of people so I write 'D Speech' and I've never trusted chemicals so I add 'D Chemistry' to my list too. History I was always ok at and I didn't have a freaking clue about Physics so I jot down 'N History' and 'N Physics'. And of course PE is required so that is also added to the list.

"Are you gonna eat your tapioca pudding Kenny." Eric Cartman's nasal voice interrupts me once again from making progress as he makes to steal my pudding cup. Despite the fact that he KNOWS that this is the only food I'm likely to get all day. And also despite the fact that I've always turned him down in the past. Hell, he even ignores the fact that I have a spoon full of the pudding about an inch from my mouth.

"Fuck you Eric, that's MY lunch." I hiss, as I make every appearance of trying to stab his hand with my pencil. "And can't you leave me alone for even half an hour so that I can get some idea about what I'm going to do with the rest of my goddamn education!" The pain in my arm comes back again as I stare him down. But my outburst only earns me Eric's angry gaze.

"What the hell is your problem! It's not like gutter children like you need to think about it much. You don't need education to be poor trailer trash, it just comes naturally."

I've always taken Eric's cracks about being poor with a grain of salt in the past. I think it's because I'm the closest friend he has, and if I'm being honest with myself he's my closest friend too. He's got millions of insults though. So why does he have to constantly use ones that remind me of just how terrible my life is? But today he sparked something...

"I'll never turn into my father Eric. Never!" I screech. "I'm going to make the world recognize the name Kenny McCormick. I'm going to be somebody. And if you can't leave me alone for one day so that I can get the ball rolling then maybe you should just go fill in those 'D' boxes for your classes after all and leave me alone. Then in 5 years we'll see who's trailer trash and who isn't!"

"Y-you tell him Kenny" I hear Butters' voice from the table behind me. Damn, I hadn't meant to really raise my voice enough for anyone other than Eric to hear me.

"Up yours Butters."

As fast as I can I gather together everything back into my bag and stand up from the table. I can feel tiers trying to come as I shove my lunch tray at Eric and stomp out of the cafeteria.

My feet have carried me to the baseball diamond before a tier finally manages to slide down my cheek. I hurriedly wipe it away and start to climb up the small set of bleachers. Reaching the top I slam my bag down beside me and rip it open. The ending lunch bell rings as I pull out my packet and notebook but I just ignore it. I reopen to the page I had been reading at lunch. Electives. The short paragraph on the opening page of the section said that these are some of the most important classes that colleges look at to determine weather they'll accept you or not. I flip to the English related electives available to 9th graders and find what I'm looking for: Writing. I've been writing ever since I learned the alphabet. I find that writing can relax me when I'm tense or hurting, it can cheer me up when I'm upset, and it can take my mind places I'll never really get to go. Writing is also a very cheep hobby, what with notebooks being four for a dollar in August and pencils are easily stolen from school.

I write down 'Writing' on my nearly completed list when I hear the starting bell for next period. Pft, whatever. It isn't until nearly 20 minutes later while I'm still flipping through other electives that I'm startled by the sound and vibration of Kyle, Stan, and Eric climbing the bleachers.

"Mrs. Oakley sent Cartman to find you. We just came along to make sure he didn't intend to kick your ass." Stan says shrugging.

I turn to Eric only to find him looking at me funny. "So are you? ...Going to kick my ass I mean?

"I hadn't decided until just now. But nah, I'll let it slide." he answers be in a tone of seriousness. But then be grins and hands me my unfinished pudding cup. No matter what happens I think that Eric and I will always be best friends forever and I can't help but smile back at him.

"Now that you two have kissed and made up can we figure out the rest of these classes?" Kyle asks, officially ending the conversation. Eric flips him off and I, blushing, do the same.

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At the end of the day the four of us turn our packets back in and head home. Eric had still ended up taking a fair few 'D' classes but he evened them out with the normal level ones. And to keep up his side of the bet with Kyle he also signed up for 'A English'. Stan had somehow managed to balance himself between choosing classes that he could share with Wendy, classes with each of us, and classes he actually liked. He and Wendy shared their usual kiss goodbye before leaving school and now he is actually whistling while we walk home from the bus stop. Kyle is going to have his work cut out for him since he'd put down for almost all 'A' classes. He told us that he was gunning for a really exclusive college, and his mother also wouldn't have it any other way.

As we each go our separate ways I can't help but feel that maybe my life is about to get better. In three days I'll be graduating from Middle School, I gained a bit more respect from Eric today, and the weather is a lot warmer than usual which is a sure sign of a long summer.

As soon as I open the front door and step into my home, however, yelling assaulted my ears, breaking any good mood I had previously been in. They'd just had a huge fight two days ago, why the hell are they going at it again. I ignore them and head to my room to do the last of the year's homework. By the time I've finished they've managed to give me a terrible headache so I head to the bathroom with a vague hope of finding an aspirin. It isn't until I've managed to luckily find one, drink it down with water from the tap, and look back up that I see myself in the mirror. The face looking back at me has long ratty blond hair, and bags under the dull blue eyes. But it's not the fact that I look like I haven't slept for a week that bothers me. My whole face is covered in a small layer of sweat and dust, except for one very visible trail down my left cheek. Fuck! I suppose that would explain why Eric was giving me that funny look, and why the guys were so nice to me for the rest of the day. They knew that I'd fucking cried!

"SHIT!" I yell as I quickly wet my hands and scrub them over my face. "Shit, shit, shit!"

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That does it for chapter 1 of "In it for the Long Haul". The next chapter: 'How We've Changed, How We've Stayed the Same' will be coming soon. Feel free to hit me with constructive reviews to help me improve the story. - SaiyanQueenVega


	2. How We’ve Changed, How We’ve Stayed the ...

_**In it for the Long Haul**_

**Chapter 2:**

"How We've Changed, How We've Stayed the Same"

_Chapter Rating:_

PG

_Story Notes: _

Thanks to those who reviewed last chapter, and especially those who emailed me with ideas, praise, and corrections. This story is still an ongoing process so your suggestions can affect it.

_Stan's POV_

A person's 15th birthday is usually very underappreciated. But to me having my 15th birthday means that I can do something I've been thinking about doing for a few years now. Being 15 means that I can start looking for my first real job. It's kind of surprising to me that every kid doesn't do it. I mean, who wouldn't want like $100 bucks a week of spending money. Especially when that's money that your parents can't threaten to not give you!

Yesterday, the 12th of June, was my 15th birthday and so today I plan on finding a sweat job. I've got a resume already typed showing the odd jobs I've done around the neighborhood and Coach says that he'll give me a reference. So I've got my nicest clothes on and I'm on my way to the mall to try my luck...

As I walk past Cartman's house I see Cartman and who is undoubtedly Kenny because of the long blond hair sitting on the front stoop running remote control cars through a small obstacle course and I head over to say hi. Kenny's been known to spend most of his summers hanging around Cartman's house to avoid going home. I don't blame him either. As I approach I see a dark bruise encircling his wrist.

"Hey guys. Who built this?" I ask motioning toward several small ramps and even a miniature half pipe made of wood that sits on the walkway.

"We built it when I came over this morning" Kenny answers not looking up from his car, which is doing a flip off of the half pipe.

"But it's only 10:15 now. This must have taken you at least 3 hours to bui..."

"He got here early. Would you just let it go Stan, Jesus Christ!" Cartman snaps back. Oh... THAT kind of 'early morning'. No wonder his wrist is still so dark. I drop the subject and we watch the cars do tricks for a few minutes of awkward silence. I've always felt uncomfortable knowing that Kenny's dad beats up on him sometimes. But he never says anything about it really so I don't say anything either. He knows I'm willing to listen...

"I'm heading to the mall. Do you guys want to come too. I'm gonna to pick up a bunch of applications. You know, see if I can get a job."

"I thought you weren't supposed to bring people along for that sort of thing" Kenny replies looking up at me for the first time. I do my best to not grimace at the scab that is now forming on the side of his lower lip. "Why are you getting a job anyway?"

"It's like a rite of passage when you turn 15. And it's easy money because there are so many restrictions about what they can make you do until you turn 16. I'm hoping that I can get something at the Happy Burger or maybe the movie theater. Plus you get free stuff working at jobs like that"

This instantly makes Cartman much more interested. "What kind of free stuff?"

"Nothing you'll be getting fatty. So are you guys coming?"

Cartman gives me a dirty look but otherwise lets the comment go unavenged as he picks up both cars and heads back into the house with them. This leaves me alone with Kenny while he begs money off of his mother. Kenny is wearing a red tank-top that obviously belongs to Cartman, being that it's at least 5 sizes too big for his small frame. He's also wearing a pair of light grey sweat pants that I know for a fact he sleeps in. But his hair has been washed and combed out and he's a lot cleaner than I usually find him. They're all the obvious signs that he's been over to the Cartmans. But his lip bothers me. His dad has never busted him in the face before, at least not that I know about. Cartman would know though. He's closer to Kenny than Kyle and I are. I still don't quite know how Cartman can disregard him so easily one moment and yet be such a loyal friend the next. It's hard to tell exactly where those two stand.

"You're worried." It's a statement, not a question. But I'm saved having to answer him as Cartman reappears through the doorway waving three $5 bills.

"Mom says this is for you" Cartman says, shoving one of the $5's into Kenny's hand. "So lets go"

----------------------------------------------------

When we finally stop for lunch I've accumulated a stack of 23 applications. After I receive my chicken sandwich value meal and return to our seat I begin carefully inking in the first application on the stack. Happy Burger, which is where we happen to be right now, is probably my best shot. They are well known for staffing mostly 15 through 18 year olds. I'm up to the section on education when Kenny and Cartman slide back into the booth across from me with their food.

"You need more to eat than just that little shit" Cartman is saying as they settle in. I look up from what I'm writing to observe them. Kenny's tray consists of just one of Happy Burger's small cheeseburgers, and a small Sprite. I silently agree with Cartman for once.

"I want to have plenty leftover for the arcade" Kenny responds before taking a bite out of the burger. "I heard that they just got in the new Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy pinball game." Ah, well that explains it. Pinball is Kenny's gaming specialty, and it's also the cheapest form of gaming which works out well for him.

I turn my attention back to my applications, waving on Cartman and Kenny when they eventually tell me they'll be at the arcade. Once I've finished the one for Happy Burger I move on to the one for Whistling Willy's Pizza, and after that the one for the movie theater that we'd picked up on the way. By the time I finish the 5th application my fingers are starting to cramp so I scoop everything into a folder and head out to find the guys, vowing to finish the rest tonight.

As I enter the arcade the first thing I see is the new Dance Dance game and the Asian kid, Yow, that always plays it. Dancing next to him on the other DDR machine is Bebe, thought by most of the school to be the hottest girl in our grade. I've heard that she plays it for exercise to keep slim. As I head farther back, passing bunches of soon to be 7th and 8th graders, I see the unmistakable red and blue hair of Kyle near the back at the Virtua Fighter machine. Standing next to him with his tongue between his teeth in concentration is the also unmistakable bulk of Cartman. I pass Kenny at the row of pinball machines rocking the high score as I head toward Kyle.

It's a battle of epic proportions between the two as they duel it out in VS mode and neither of them has noticed my presence behind them. By what the screen shows Kyle has already won the first two rounds and is about to end the game by beating Cartman for the 3rd time. I can't resist the urge so I throw my hands over my best friend's eyes, nearly giving him a heart attack.

"What the fuck?" Cartman takes advantage of the distraction by redoubling his efforts and laying into Kyle's fighter. But Kyle quickly collects himself and finishes him off before taking a swing at my arm in retribution. "Trying to get on Cartman's good side I see" he jokes, wiping away the sweat that has accumulated on his brow.

"Dude he doesn't HAVE a good side, his school pictures prove that. And I totally could have stolen your wallet just now. You were somewhere else."

"Why don't you fags go get a room" Cartman suggests before walking off toward Kenny mumbling about being beaten by a Jew.

Kyle just smirks. "He's bitter because that's the 3rd game in a row that I've wasted him at."

"Ah..."

"So how did the job hunt start off?" He asks, leaning against the game.

"I got 5 of the applications finished. I've already turned in the one for Happy Burger, and I'm just heading back to turn in the rest. Coming?"

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_Kyle's POV_

My parents seem to think that I'm going to someday turn into a gun toting, homicidal maniac. That the color of my hair makes me more likely to suddenly not care about my grades or future, and that the stud in my nose will inexplicably make me into a Satan worshiper. So they announced at breakfast this morning that we need to take a family trip. Apparently near the end of the summer we're going to Jerusalem, the most holy city to us Jews. Mom thinks that if blue hair and piercings are a sign of my moral deterioration that this upcoming trip will make everything all better. Apparently she missed that whole part where I had the highest GPA in the school last year. But I can't say that I'm disappointed with the TRIP, just the reasons for taking it. Israel is supposed to be an awesome place to see.

Anyway, once I way done with breakfast I head out the door toward to Stan's house. He's been job hunting for four days now and he's expecting a call back from his movie theater interview any minute, so he's reluctant to leave the house. It's fine with me. His place is the best place to hang out at anyway, because his parents are just plain normal. Not drunks, not whores, and not over protective bitchy. When I reach his door I knock and wait.

"Come on in" Stan yells. I turn the knob and walk inside. I can hear Stan talking in his kitchen and realize that he's on the phone. "– I can make room in my schedule... yes...yes...any time you'd like me...Yeah...well until school starts back up...that sounds great! ...Absolutely... Thank you Mr. Morns. ...Yes, tomorrow at 10:30. Thanks, bye." There is a short silence followed by a whoop of joy and the pounding of feet. Stan leaps into view from his kitchen and tackles me to the ground laughing.

"I take it that was the movie theater?" I ask, already knowing.

"They want to pay me $6.75 an hour! Starting tomorrow! That's like a buck more than I was expecting. They said that someone else that just started there noticed my application and spoke highly of me. Dude this rules!"

"Don't forget free movies" I remind him. His grin just gets wider. "We've gotta go tell everyone. I bet Cartman will shit his pants. And Wendy will think it's great. You know how into taking things seriously she is. This makes you more mature and all that crap girls like."

"Let me call Dad and let him know first and then we can go" Stan tells me racing back toward the phone, practically glowing.

A few minutes later he returns again and we head out. "You know I got some pretty nice news this morning too" I say as we hit the streets, walking toward Stan's girlfriend's house. "My mom told me at breakfast that we're going on vacation to Jerusalem in August. It's supposed to be for family bonding" I role my eyes for effect. "But the trip will be cool."

Stan nods in agreement. "That's awesome. I wish we would visit a cool country for a family trip sometime. I've always wanted to visit New Zealand."

"That's only because of _Lord of the Rings_" I interrupt him. "No one even knew that country existed before that movie came out..."

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_Stan's POV_

10:07. It seems like only a blink of the eye has gone by since yesterday when I got the phone call. Dad was so proud of me that we all went out for dinner last night to celebrate. Wendy was pretty impressed too. Kyle was right, she thinks responsible men are sexy... hehehe. I ended up leaving the house really early today to get to the theater. I'm wearing black slacks just like I was told and a blue button up shirt that I normally wear to church. I'm not a huge fan of my slacks but I'll be able to buy some more comfortable fitting ones with my first paycheck. But I'll be getting a staff shirt so I won't have to worry about the fact that I detest the blue one. I won't have to wear it again, at least not here. 10:16. I actually tried to figure out who I knew that would have recommended me for the job last night. No one came to mind. It couldn't have been Kyle or Kenny, and certainly it wasn't Cartman. None of my other casual friends had jobs yet and neither did anyone on the football or baseball teams. I eventually gave up figuring it out in favor of getting sleep.

10:24. A car pulls into the back parking lot behind the theater and I see someone with an employee shirt getting out. I straighten up from where I've been leaning against the building and wait for the employee to approach. The guy looks to be around 25-ish and has strawberry blond hair and a goatee to match. When he reaches me he extends his hand and we shake.

"You must be Stan Marsh?" he asks, and I nod. "I'm Anthony. I open every weekday, but I also happen to train the new meat around here." He pulls out a large key ring and flips through them for a moment before choosing one and unlocking the door. We step inside and instantly I'm cooled down by the heavy air conditioning.

"Hand on a second while I get the lights." I stay standing near the concession stand until everything in the place comes alive. "Now" he says returning, "I'm supposed to show you the ropes and get you a couple of the shirts. Lets get the shirts first. What size do you take?"

"Medium sir."

"Ugg. First rule around here is to not call me sir. Anthony or Tony are both fine. Sir makes me feel like I'm old or something. The only person you need to call Mr. or sir around here is the owner. But he's rarely around. He's got like 15 theaters in Denver and another dozen between there and here to worry about." I smile. I could really get to like this guy. "So three size M shirts... Oh, I'm also supposed to work out when you should come in for the rest of this week until we do the next schedule. But lets get you into a shirt so we can open this place at 11 " he says, glancing at his watch. I wait as he disappears again. He reappears with three folded employee shirts and offers me one. "Here. You go put this one on and I'll throw the other two in the lockers." Tony points my toward the bathrooms and we part. 10:48 my watch tells me as I pull my shirt over my head.

Upon my return Tony nods his approval. "Well it's close enough. Lets get the doors open." As the two of us slide the bolts in place to keep the doors open a familiar voice greets me.

"Hello there Stanley" standing there in the same white shirt and black clip-on tie as I'm wearing is Pip. I stand and goggle at him completely stunned for a moment before it clicks.

"It was you Pip? YOU gave me that recommendation?" Over the years Pip's popularity hasn't gotten any better than what it was in the 3rd grade. I know from eyewitness accounts that Pip receives weekly swirlys from Craig and is beaten up at least once a month. And I'm certainly not a friend of his by any stretch of the imagination. "But why?"

"Well you see Stanley" he explains, walking inside and past me and removing that little cap he STILL wears, "out of everyone in school you treat me better than most of the others. You usually don't pick on my accent and you never try to beat me up... And I know that you are a hard worker, because I've seen your football games. And you play baseball too if I'm not mistaken. It takes hard work to balance such things with your studies. And you must also find time to spend with all your friends..." He pauses in front of the time clock and punches in. 10:57. "I thought that you would work hard here too, that's all. And I wouldn't mind spending time with you. Even if it is just at work."

Tony cuts the conversation short by cutting in. "I see you know Pip. Mr. Morns mentioned that you had a friend who worked here and recommended you. Pip's been the new meat around here for the last two and a half weeks, but that's you now Stan." I don't bother to correct Tony about not being friends with Pip as he goes on to explain what I'll be doing.

The rest of the day flies by. It turns out that the regular ticket seller had unexpectedly quit a week ago and that I would be filling that position. Pip, it turns out, was the second person on the two person projector team. He monitors things to make sure all the theaters are running correctly and in focus and switches the reels after the movie. The first person of that pair is Donota, a Russian sounding girl of 21 with long bubble-gum pink hair that I met when she breezed in at 11:30 to set up for the first showing of the day at 12:00. I also meet Shamise and Tammy, the 18 year old twins that work the concession stands. DJ, Matt, and June are the clean up crew and all college students from North Park that room together and drive here every day. There's also George the ticket taker, who is 58 and retired. He says he dose it for the free movies. There are also 3 backup people who I have yet to meet and Tony who, on top of opening every morning, works the weekends and randomly throughout the week to cover for people's days off. I'll going to run the ticket counter Monday through Friday from 10:30 until 5:00 until the end of the summer. But I'm also expected to learn how to run the concession stand and how to help in the projector room this week, in case an emergency comes up.

I'm just finished selling tickets for the 4:00 movie when Tony comes up and relieves me.

"That was a great first day's work Stan. I'll take it from here. Here's the combination to your locker." He hands me a folded slip of paper and a small packet. "That's the company handbook. All of the policies and that crap is in there. I wrote the rest of this week's schedule on the back of it too. Now head up to the projector room and find Pip. I want you to learn at least the bare bones of how to handle changing the reels in case Donota is ever sick when I have the day off." He smiles at me. "It'll do Pip some good to have you around too. He seems like a pretty isolated kid. I never see him meeting friends after work for a free movie or anything... Oh, and make sure you guys get outta here at 5. No sense working longer than you have to." He waves me off toward the staircase to the projector room.

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I'm not quite sure how it happened. But somehow Pip has turned from an annoying, wimpy, almost spineless, bore into a pretty ok guy.

It turned out that the projector, when in action, was a monster machine that looked ready to suck me in and tear me apart. I mean it was scary to think about. But Pip moved around like there was nothing to worry about. He told me what areas of the machine to avoid if I wanted to keep all my limbs and where to tune the knobs for focus. He showed me how to feed a new film into it and even let me do it myself for the 4:30 showing in the 4th theater. We'd had twenty minutes to kill before 5:00 and we ended up talking about school. What classes we'd signed up for, how much we thought it was going to suck having to get up an hour early to ride the buss there, and how it would feel weird to support North Park in sports now when we'd always been bitter rivals with them before. By the time 5:00 came around I couldn't believe that this was really Pip. What had happened? Where had this guy who shared a lot of my views and interests come from and what had he done with the REAL Pip's body?

"What are you doing after this?" I ask coming back to the present as I punch out, following Pip to the lockers.

"Well you see I have to be back at the orphanage by 9:00..." he answers with a confused look. "But I never have anything to do really. I usually head straight back there and read. Why?"

I shuffle my feet some at this and grab the shirts out of my locker to stall for a bit of time. "It's just that... I wouldn't mind hanging out. If you'd like!" I add quickly. This stops Pip dead in his tracks and his eyes go wide. "I..I know that we haven't really associated much..."

"But you're one of the most popular guys at school" Pip cuts me off. "To be seen with me... it would be social suicide. I don't want to be a bother to you Stan. It's nice just talking here."

"Oh, stop that!" I retort, feeling almost offended. "I think the only reason that you aren't popular yourself is because you don't have any confidence after how everyone has treated you for all these years. I know all about how Cartman talks to you and what Craig does to you. I didn't care until now, which is actually sort of shameful now that I think about it. But you're a person Pip. And I choose to ask you to hang out with me as one person to another not as a popular to an unpopular."

He smiles weakly and nods. "I suppose then yes. Let us hang out."

I extend my hand to Pip. "I'm Stan. Good to know you."

Pip's smile broadens and he shakes my hand. "Charmed. My name is Philip, but my... friends call me Pip."

We leave the theater, wave to Tony at the ticket counter, and hit the pavement. It is only about five minutes walk until we reach my front door.

"Is this going to problem with your parents? We should have called them ahead of time to make sure they didn't have company. They'll think I have terrible manners, just barging in like this.."

"Dude chill! It's fine. I bring friends home all the time" I say as I throw the door open. "MOM, I'M HO...!" I call before realizing that Stan, Cartman, and Kenny are all sitting in my living room.

"Your mom invited us over for a kind of surprise party...what the hell is Pip doing here?" Kyle says all at once, eyeing Pip while frowning.

"Yeah! What the hell is that little French fag doing here Stan?" Cartman snarls pointing a finger into Pip's chest. Pip looks absolutely panicked. I hadn't really been thinking about what I'd do if something like this happened.

"Fuck you wide load, Pip and I work together."

"And that has what, exactly, to do with the fact that he's currently standing in your house?

"...I can go Stanley" Pip mumbles turning toward the door. I feel a gnawing of anger on Pip's behalf as he refuses to defend himself from my friends. It's a similar feeling to what I feel when any but the four of us rag on Kyle for being Jewish or when someone rags on Kenny or even Cartman. I can hear Cartman's voice still spewing hate toward Pip as he walks through the threshold of the door.

"Wait Pip. I invited you here. You should stay." I turn to the surprised faces of my friends. "Look I'm allowed to hang out with whoever I like dudes. I've never asked for your permission before and I'm not going to start now."

"But it's fucking...Pip. You can do better than that. He's a choade." Kyle replies.

"Don't be such a hypocrite. I'm not trying to win a popularity contest with my current friends as it is. You're a nerd Kyle and everyone in this room knows it. But that doesn't make a difference to me. I'm YOUR friend so why can't I be Pip's friend!" There.. I said it. The phrase 'Pip's friend'. And it actually felt good. I point at Cartman. "No one likes you either Cartman, because you're an annoying asshole. But I still hang out with YOU!"

A tense moment of silence fills the room as Pip stands halted outside the door, I stand fuming just inside it, Kyle and Cartman stand looking indignantly at me, and Kenny sits on my couch with a thoughtful look.

This is going to blow up in my face, I just know it... "Pip, don't stand outside. Get your ass back in here. I'm going to make some popcorn and play Gamesphere and enjoy the rest of this night. And you're going to stay and party with me until 8:30."

"Me too." Kenny adds, surprising me. "I'm totally willing to admit another blond into this group. We need more beautiful people." This causes Cartman to snort.

"Well if the French pussy thinks he can handle what we dish out..."

"Stop calling me French Eric." Well what do you know. The last time I can remember Pip standing up for himself was in 3rd grade, and it involved a dodge ball.

"Or what... Frenchie?"

"That's enough Cartman. Let me get some popcorn started and then we can settle this with a couple rounds of Bloodbath 4" I interrupt, grabbing Pip and hauling him back into the house and pushing him toward the sofa. "Get the game started Kenny" I call behind me as I head toward the kitchen.

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Three hours. That's all it took to almost completely undo all of what we'd thought of Pip since we'd met him. By the time 8:30 rolled around we'd played 6 rounds each of Bloodbath 4, 2 games each of Thirst for Blood 2, almost a dozen fights each at Soul Caliber 2, and an untold number of battles playing Transitron, which Pip turned out to be a grand master of. By the end of it all even Cartman had restricted himself to only video game related slander of Pip while Kyle and Kenny were even offering friendly encouragement.

"Well gents it is quickly approaching my curfew. So I will have to bid you all a goodnight" Pip says standing.

"Dude, you have GOT to teach me that finishing move where Sirikin flashes her opponent!" Kyle reaches to an end table and retrieves a pen. "Here's my number" he says scratching it onto the back of Pip's hand. "Call me and we can hang out at my house sometime." Pip looks dazed for a moment before nodding at Kyle and opening the door to exit.

"I'll see you tomorrow Pip" I call before he closes the door behind him.

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That's all for this chapter... Man this one turned out to be a lot different than I had anticipated. I was going to add a whole other part to this one but that would have made it MASSIVE, so I'm diverting the overflow into a whole new chapter. Stay tuned for Chapter 3: 'Just one teaspoon can kill you'


	3. Just One Teaspoon can Kill You

**_In it for the Long Haul_**

**Chapter 3:**

"Just One Teaspoon can Kill You"

_Chapter Rating_:

PG/PG-13 depending on how anal you want to be...

_Story Notes_:

Hugs and kisses go out to my reviewers, both those who post at this site AND those who contact me personally. Thanks for the inspiration to keep plugging away at this story...

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_Cartman's POV_

It's been almost a month since Pip's French ass changed our loose knit foursome into a fivesome. Pft... He's still a little fag, but I think I hate him less than Kyle. AND, it should be entertaining to see what happens when school starts back up and Stan tries to parade around with Pip. That hippy seems to think that if we each stand up for that poof a bit that everyone will suddenly leave him alone. It must be nice to live in the magical reality that he lives in. I mean really, not only is Craig and his bunch of buttholes going to still kick Pip's ass weekly, but we're ALL going to have to deal with the entire school full of North Park assholes.

Kenny's been hanging around more than ever this summer. All I can say about it is that his dad if a fucking douche bag. If I was just a little bigger than him I would kick him in the nuts. I've offered to kill him before but Kenny just laughs it off. I don't think he knows that I'm serious. Kenny is sort of cool to have around the house right now though, because Mom's been under the weather for like 2 weeks now. She says she doesn't have any energy so I've been stuck with chores. But Kenny helps with things that I wouldn't have a clue how to do, like laundry and cleaning.

Mom's actually at a doctor's appointment right now. Me and Kenny are reading school letters that just came in the mail like 5 minutes ago. 9th grade courses...

"I ended up with D History, followed by N Chemistry, and A English." I read to Kenny while he checks my classes against his. But A English causes me to pause. My bet with Kyle was that I wouldn't pass an advanced level class with at least a C. While I may not like to admit it, especially when it's that Jew saying it, I know that I'm not the brightest crayon in the box when it comes to stupid stuff like school. So Jew boy thinks he's got me for an easy $100 bucks. But Kyle hadn't taken into consideration that I would have Kenny's help. There's no one who could have helped me pass 8th grade English except him. Anyway, back to the schedule. "...D Physics, D Algebra, N speech, PE-B... yuck...goddamn PE class... Youth Psychology, and Study Hall." I set down the yellow sheet, and grab a notebook and pen waiting for Kenny to read his off.

"I've got N History, D Chemistry, A English, N Physics, N Algebra, D Speech, PE-B, Writing, and Study Hall" he lists. After I write them all down I compare.

"We've got English, PE, and Study Hall together" I say, frowning. "I put down for N History but they put me in Developmental instead. Sons of bitches!"

"Yeah but we've got STUDY HALL together Eric. Nothing to do but piss around if we want to. It'll be cool, trust me. Where'd you get put for your locker? I'm 132W. First floor west side."

"Er... 139W. Awesome!" I smile. It'll be nice to have a locker so close to my partner in crime. Contrary to popular belief, Kenny is the only person who I consider to be my 'friend'. I mean, sure, I hang out with Stan and even Kyle, but they've never really understood my distinct, and superior, personality. Kenny knows though. He understands that I come first. Period! I'll help him out if I can, but not at the cost of skin off of my ass. That's what things are like in the real world. And I plan on living in the real world! Kenny knows that it's not personal when I ditch him or when I laugh at him to score popularity points. All that matters is that we're always honest on the most basic levels. "I'm totally going to graffiti your locker Kenny" I laugh.

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_Kyle's POV_

Have you ever had the feeling that there was a disturbance in the force? Like you suddenly, for no reason, feel that somewhere a balance has for some reason been jolted? The only times I really have those feelings is when I know Cartman has some terrible idea or an evil plot. So I usually try to talk him out of doing whatever it is and he does whatever it was anyway. And after that the feeling goes away. I've had this feeling all week and, coincidently enough, Cartman his been mysteriously absent all week too. Actually it's not just Cartman who's gone suddenly missing, but his mother as well. Stan thinks that they must have gone on some vacation, maybe to his relatives in Kansas. But Kenny shares my feelings of worry. He reported that he'd last seen Cartman last Saturday when they had compared class schedules. Cartman's mom had been away the whole day to some doctor's appointment and Cartman had told Kenny to come over again if he had problems with his dad. But nothing was really in the panic zone yet.

I contemplate weather I should report the fact that they are both missing to someone or not. But that's best left until tomorrow. I close the book that I've been trying to read and slip into bed. Yeah, I'll deal with it all tomorrow...

I awake to the sound of the phone next to my bed ringing, and silently thank god that it's a private line so it didn't wake my mom. I look over at the clock, which shows 1:22AM and then over at the caller ID. It says Cartman's house.

"Hello" I yawn. I receive a shock when I hear Kenny's chocking voice on the line.

"K..Kyle I need your help...I...I'm over at Eric's. No one...there's no one here again."

"Dude I'll be there as soon as I can." I hang up the phone and pull on a random pair of pants in the dark. Praying that no one has heard me, I sneak down the stares and out into the 50 degree night.

By the time I reach Cartman's house it must be 1:30. Kenny is standing at the front door, illuminating the street with the light from within the house. I don't think I've ever seen Kenny look like such a mess. When I'm ushered inside I can see that his shirt is torn up beyond recognition and covered in strong smelling alcohol. His hair is also matted and tangled and his eyes are red and puffy from crying. But what's worst is that he is cradling his left wrist and his chest is covered in tiny cuts. Apparently he'd been shoved and fell onto a pile of broken glass.

"What the fuck dude!"

"I'm sorry! It's really not that bad I know... but I just sort of panicked. Eric's ALWAYS been here before." He's babbling. Babbling is not going to help this situation.

"Dude, I didn't mean _what the fuck _as in 'you bothered me for no reason'. That was _what the fuck _as in 'oh my god you've had the shit kicked out of you'! Is there still glass in any of those cuts?"

Kenny shakes his head. "I pulled most of it out while I was running here. But that sort of cut up my fingers too." He lifts his uninjured hand's fingers for me to see. It doesn't look too bad.

"First aid stuff. I assume you're familiar with its location." It's not a question. And Kenny obviously hears the anger in my voice.

"It's fine Kyle. I can handle this..."

"Just sit on the couch. Where's the antiseptic cream and band-aids? I'll get them." I order, sighing.

"Bathroom. Third drawer down on the right" Kenny answers, slumping down onto Cartman's couch. I quickly retrieve both items and return. I find my battered friend trying to remove what is left of his shirt with one hand.

"Here, I'll get it." Between the two of us Kenny manages to wiggle out of what's left of his top and I begin carefully smearing the antiseptic onto the numerous tiny cuts.

"That's what started it this time. He called me a fag." he chokes out. "The shirt was Eric's. He gave it to me the last time I... I had to stay over. But tonight Dad came in and saw me sleeping in another dude's shirt and just flew off of the hook." I looked back at the pile of red fabric and could remember seeing Kenny wear it a while ago. He'd been practically drowning in it.

"I need to see your wrist... to make sure it isn't broken." After prodding it for a few moments I breath a sigh of relief. "I think it's just a sprain."

"Where'd you learn first aid anyway? Jew Scouts?"

I break into a small grin. "It's not all about Jewbilee."

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I wake up the next morning curled up on the end of Cartman's couch. The first thought that races through my mind is the fact that my mother is going to kill me for not being there when she came to wake me up this morning. The second thought that crosses my mind is that I don't really care. Stretching, I glance around the room for my friend. Upon not seeing him I climb to my feet and head to the kitchen, where the lights are turned on. But I can already tell that Kenny is in there by the wonderful smell that wafts under my nose. Upon entering I see him standing at the kitchen counter pulling 2 waffles from a waffle maker. The bandages on his fingers haven't stopped Kenny from being a kitchen wiz with his good hand.

"..Morning" I mumble slumping into a chair.

"Damn dude. It almost isn't morning anymore. I'm the one that suffered trauma last night not you. What's YOUR excuse?" I flip Kenny off. We had stayed up for an hour after I'd gotten him cleaned up talking. He'd made me swear a sacred oath of secrecy that I wouldn't tell any grownups about what happened. Kenny stood by the fact that he didn't want to see his family torn away from him... and no matter how much I personally disagreed I eventually ended up promising.

"Oh, and I called your mom at around 9:00. I told her some bullshit story about me and Eric finding hatching turtle eggs and that we'd invited you over at 7:00. I think she's a bit pissed about not getting a note, but otherwise she's.." and at this point he changes the pitch of his voice to imitate my mother, '..glad you are getting the opportunity to see the miracle of birth.'" He chuckles a bit while carrying a small stack of waffles over and setting them down in front of me. "So I think you should stick around here for most of the day."

"Well, I don't have to be home until 9:30. But should we really stick around Cartman's house? I mean they aren't even home." This brings a frown to Kenny's face. I know that he's more worried about why Cartman has gone missing than the rest of us. But I suppose that if Cartman pulled ME through the kind of shit that happened last night on a regular basis I'D be more worried about him too. "I was actually thinking about that last night. Today's Sunday. And we know for sure that he's been missing since last Sunday right? So we should be able to ask the police to look for them tomorrow... since it's been over a week."

"You don't think that anything's wrong do you?" he asks in a tone of total seriousness. He has this look on his face that tells me that I'd feel like I just killed a puppy if I told him anything except what he needs to hear.

"Nah" I lie. "It's probably something like Stan was saying. Cartman's probably on some surprise vacation or something. He'll be back rubbing it in our faces any day now..."

So we ended up hanging out for the next several hours in Cartman's empty house. First we cleaned up the kitchen and living room and after that we vegetated in front of the television.

It isn't until 5:10, when the phone rings, that we take any notice of the day slipping away from us. Cartman's caller ID says Hippy Lover's Work. So that must be Stan calling from the theater.

I answer the phone. "Hey Stan, what's up?"

"Dude? I just called your house and your mom said you and Kenny were at Cartman's. Is he back? Where the hell was he this whole time?" Stan's voice answers me sounding surprised.

"No, there's still no sign of Cartman. Actually there was a bit of an emergency with Kenny so..." I trail off looking over to the blond who has his ear pushed up next to the phone too, listening. "He can fill you in himself later. So why were you trying to find us?"

"Well Pip just got through working and called me to see if all of us would go see the new Vin Diesel movie that opened today. We could both bring one of you in for free..." On my end of the phone I hesitate. But Kenny grabs the phone and answers for me.

"Sounds great Stan. Should we head straight over?" I put my ear to the phone to hear Stan's answer.

"Sure. The movie doesn't start until 6:30, but maybe we should talk." We both know exactly what Stan means. A recap of the night is going to be in order. "We'll see you in 10 minutes."

"Yeah, bye" Kenny says and hangs up the phone. "Well I suppose I'm going to need a new shirt.".

---------------------------------------------------

As we stand outside the theater after the movie I can't help but feel that even though the day has gotten progressively better since 1:30AM, something isn't right with the force. I mean the movie was awesome. And the talk we had before it couldn't have gone any better than it did. Kenny explained what happened without any traumatic outbursts, and Pip took in the shocking new bit of information as well as I think he could. He seemed angry on Kenny's behalf but also promised to keep it quiet. Still, something seems off balance.

"Well gents it has been a pleasure but I'm afraid that 9:00 is fast approaching. I must be on my way" Pip says as the last bus of the night pulls up to the bus stop across the street. That feeling I have redoubles as I hear the doors of that bus open and I glance up at it. To South Park/North Park - From Denver the electronic sign on the front says. The voices of the others next to me are suddenly muffled to a whisper in my head as I see a familiar face disembark from that bus.

"Cartman?" The others hear me and follow my gaze to where Eric Cartman has just stepped off of the Denver bus and is staring at the four of us. As one we quickly cross the street and confront him. He turns and begins walking in the direction of his home as all the others start firing questions at him. But I remain quiet. The feeling of wrongness is now almost sickening. What has Cartman done now?

"Will you guys give it a fucking rest? I really just want to get home. I'm tired" Cartman growls out over the others. And he thinks that's that? No explanation? He does look tired though...

Stan frowns at Cartman's retreating back before tossing a loud "What's the matter Cartman? Did your mom keep you up all night last night in the next room moaning!"

Cartman halts and goes ridged for a split second before suddenly turning back and bolting toward Stan. Before I can do anything other than gasp in surprise he tackles Stan to the ground and begins punching him in the face. Kenny and Pip both bull rush him in an attempt to pull him off but I feel frozen to the spot. At least until he starts screaming.

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU STAN! YOU'VE GOT NO RIGHT...I'LL BREAK YOUR GODDAMN NECK!" I notice several onlookers on the bus pull out phones, probably calling the police. "...POISON YOUR FOOD AND KILL YOUR WHOLE FAMILY!" I finally snap out of it and rush over, attempting to pull Stan out of Cartman's reach. Kenny and Pip are still trying to pin his arms down as he continues to flail at Stan, yelling all the while.

"YOU'VE GOT NO RIGHT...CRUSH EVERY BONE IN YOUR BODY YOU SON OF A BITCH! YOU HAVEN'T GOT ANY RIGHT TO SAY THAT! GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME KENNY... I'LL KILL THAT BASTARD!" By this point both Pip, Kenny, and I have been knocked a time or two by Cartman as well, but they've managed to pin his arms behind him somehow. I look back down at Stan with wide eyes. His nose is bleeding really bad. I can now also hear a siren in the background of the chaos. But suddenly everything just goes quiet for a moment. But the next moment Cartman lets out the most animalistic cry of anguish I think I'll ever hear in all my life. Tiers start poring down his cheeks and his knees suddenly give way, taking both of my other friends down with him. What the hell is going on?

By the time that the familiar officer with orange hair reaches us I'm trying to stop the flow of blood from Stan's nose with my shirt while Kenny and Pip attempt to lift Cartman off of the ground and keep his arms pined at the same time. The officer quickly cuffs Cartman and ushers us all into the cruiser, placing Cartman between Kenny, me, and Pip and Stan in the front.

"We need to get him to an emergency room. You can all explain what the hell was going on when we get there. We all nod except Cartman, who is still sobbing.

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It's nearly two hours later that we are all being reunited in a waiting room...

Kenny had come out of the O.R. earlier, joining me with only a busted lip and an ugly black eye, and Pip also joined us a bit later sporting a massive dark bruise on his cheek. And me? Well I'd managed to only sustain a minor bruise to my jaw. They brought Cartman out an hour later and handcuffed him to a chair. He also had a bloody lip where Stan had tried to fight back. He wouldn't look at any of us. But Stan, ugg... When he finally joined us his nose was swollen and I could see that it was slightly out of alignment. His upper lip was also swollen and was sporting several stitches. Also sporting stitches was Stan's left eyebrow.

"What the FUCK was that all about Cartman?" Stan yells as soon as he enters the room. His voice sounds a bit off. It must be because of his nose. Cartman just continues staring at the floor.

"Look Eric" the officer who drove us here says to Cartman. "You've got to tell them what happened. "They're the only ones that can agree to let you go home. If you don't tell them what you told us, we'll have to keep you over night until someone can sign for you." Cartman nods and looks up at us.

Emotionless. That's the only word I can think of to describe the look in his eyes. "She's going to die" he says in a tired voice. I'm completely dumbfounded.

"Who's going to die Eric?" Pip asks in a small voice.

"My...my mother"

"Everyone's mother is going to die Cartman!" Stan spits back before I have a real chance to process what's been said. "Discovering mortality is no excuse for breaking my nose in two places!"

"Not everyone's mother is going to die in two or three years asshole!"

"W..wait" I stammer trying to grasp this. "Your mom is dying? Cartman just nods as his eyes tier up again. Pip's hand shoots up to cover the gasp that escapes his mouth. Stan's angry look wavers.

"That's why she took all day at that doctor's appointment." Kenny looks almost on the verge of crying too. Cartman just nods again. "What is it?"

"She's...she's g..got the new strain of..of... aids. She's got the super aids guys" After that he bursts into loud sobs. A look of utter horror sits of Stan's face, as well as Pip's and I'm sure my own as well. Kenny rushes forward and throws his arms around his best friend.

The officer clears his throat. "I can't let him leave tonight unless you are all willing to drop any charges." I try to find my voice but Kenny beats me to it from his position still hugging Cartman.

"I don't have any problems."

"Neither do I officer" Pip seconds.

"Now that I know what it was all about... yeah I'm ok with him too" Stan adds.

"We're all willing to drop things" I add last.

"Then the only thing left is to call your parents so we can get the bills paid for."

Oh, shit... oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! The last thing I need right now to add to all the drama of the day is my mother coming down here.

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"Stanley! Oh my god." Stan's parents are the first ones go arrive. His mother takes one look at his battered face and nearly goes into hysterics. His dad surveys his son and then turns his eyes to the rest of us. These four unlikely friends his son has. The Jewish nerd, the fat racist, the British wimp, and the little poor kid. That's all he was seeing at that moment, I can tell.

"What the god's name happened out there tonight?"

"Well you see... it's a bit complicated" I murmur. "I was hoping that we could wait until the others got here." But at that very moment I can hear my mother's voice down the hall demanding to see me. It's only seconds until she, followed by my dad and Ike burst through the doors.

"What's this I hear about my boy fighting?" She hones her gaze in on me and her eyebrows droop into an angry look. "Kyle! What did you do!" The old feeling of not being able to stand up to my mother creeps back into my blood.

"I...I..I" I pause to take a breath. "Please mom just wait a bit longer. We'll tell you all at once." I didn't have long to wait, because Kenny's mom slips quietly through the doors at that instant, making her way up to her son, who is still holding Cartman's hand for reassurance. There's no delaying it any longer.

As I recount the events of the afternoon to those in the room I can't help but think that I'm betraying Kenny. Because even though I don't mention exactly what we were doing at Cartman's house without him home, I can't help but think that someone will question it. But no one does. By the time I am through every adult in the room is too busy looking sympathetically at Cartman to remember many of the story's other details. Well except for Kenny's mom, who knows exactly what Kenny was doing at Cartman's. I can tell that she is still staring at Kenny, who is still holding Cartman's hand...

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That'll be all for this installment. This chapter was actually really easy to write. But that is probably because I knew exactly how I wanted it to come out before I even started... Anyway, come back soon for the next installment, which will be the longest chapter yet. Chapter 4: 'New Start, New Place, Same Sht'


	4. New Start, New Place, Same Sh:t

**_In it for the Long Haul_**

**Chapter 4:**

"New Start, New Place, Same Sh!t"

_Chapter Rating_:

PG

_Story Notes:_

This chapter is going to be a Cartman sized chapter. Just warning you...

_Misc. Notes_:

Has anyone other than me noticed that the time between uploading and a story actually showing up on the web page on this site it way too long? I understand that has a lot of activity every day... but when 5 HOURS goes by it starts to feel ridiculous. Especially because I know for a fact that even within this site, other sections are uploading a lot faster. I've never had anything take more than 2 hours to show up on the DBZ section, and our South Park section isn't getting nearly as much traffic submission-wise. Anyway, I just thought I'd bring it up.

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_Kenny's POV_

The summer had been a real experience for all of us I think. Not necessarily a good experience for all of the five of us though. Eric had been in a daze for a few weeks. We all tried to act as normal as we could for him. I continued to help around his house, and the guys would come over to visit just like they normally did. I think that it did Eric a lot of good. We got him half way back to his old annoying self by the end of summer.

Kyle still went on his family trip to Israel mid-August. He sent us postcards every 3 days telling us how cool everything was, asking how things were going in South Park, and checking on Cartman. We got pictures once too. We all shared a laugh at one picture of Kyle standing in front of a Synagogue. He looked completely out of place with his red and blue streaked spiked hair as is was, but he was also wearing a blue shirt with the word 'JEW' in big white letters and an arrow pointing up at himself. On the back of the picture was a note saying; _Cartman this one's for you_...

Pip was in heaven I think. If he hadn't been totally accepted by Eric before, he was now. So Pip has had his first summer with friends to share it with. He even got permission to stay the night at Stan's once. I don't think I've ever seen that kid happier than after playing video games and flashlight ditch for 10 hours straight.

Stan ended up getting a week off of work to let his face heal, though if you look for it you can still see a bump at the bridge of his nose that wasn't there before. But after that week he diapered for days at a time working. But despite not seeing him as much as we usually did during the week, on the weekends Stan was all ours and a loaded man. He was always buying a new video game or taking us all to get a burger.

We'd also all sat down together right before Kyle's vacation and compared our five school schedules. And Wendy's just for Stan. We wrote them all out;

_Me: N History, D Chemistry, A English, N Physics, N Algebra, D Speech, PE-B, Writing, Study Hall  
Eric: D History, N Chemistry, A English, D Physics, D Algebra, N Speech, PE-B, Youth Psychology, Study Hall  
Kyle: A History, A Chemistry, A English, N Physics, A Geometry, A Speech, PE-B, Health Studies, Biology 9  
Stan: N History, N Chemistry, N English, N Physics, A Algebra, N Speech, PE-B, Environmental Study, Shop  
Pip: A History, N Chemistry, A English, N Physics, N Algebra, A Speech, PE-B, Spanish, European History  
Wendy: A History, N Chemistry, A English, A Physics, A Algebra, A Speech, PE-G, Environmental Study, German_

That's actually what I'm looking at right now as I walk. If I weren't so sleepy from having to get up at 6:30AM to catch the damn bus as 7:15 the writing would probably be looking a lot clearer. The North Park bus stop is actually six blocks further away from my house than the old bus so it's going to be a bitch when the weather starts to really suck. Snow fell last night just like it always does the night before school starts, so I can see my breath as I walk. In the distance I can see eight figures standing. As I get closer I can make out Kyle first, followed by Eric, and Stan. Then Tweek, Pip, Bebe, Clyde and Butters.

"Hey guys" I call to everyone when I reach them.

"Yo Kenny" answer my four friends in unison. All their voices are holding an edge of panic to them. That's kind of how I feel about this whole thing. Cool on the outside, bundle of nerves inside.

"Ready to step into the lime light of public popularity Pip?" He looks a bit pale as he nods, and I don't blame him. Clyde and Bebe look ready to laugh out loud at us for even talking casually to him. He's worried that at the third stop Craig will kick his ass for trying to be cool. Craig has turned into a real dick the past few years and it doesn't help that he's got Token, Fosse, and Clyde to back him up. I smile weakly at Pip and then turn an evil glare at Clyde. He manages to stop snickering after that and just looks at us angrily. I shift my mostly empty backpack off of my back as I see the bus pulling in.

"Flanking formation once we're in guys" Stan whispers to us as the bus doors open. I climb the stairs first and make a beeline to the back where our usual last two seats on the left are open. I slide into the second to the last seat and am quickly followed by Eric. Then Pip is guided to the window spot of the three man back seat. Stan sits next to him while Kyle protects the isle. Hopefully with Pip protected in the corner everything will go smoothly.

"This feels an awful lot like a military operation of some sort fellows" Pip proclaims quietly from behind me.

"That's what it is! No one that I associate with is going to get his ass kicked by Craig" Eric answers. We sit in silence for the next seven minutes until the bus grinds to a halt for the second stop. We all watch in silence as Wendy steps onto the buss followed by Mark and Rebecca. My eyes trail Wendy as she makes her way toward us and she slides into the one person back seat across from Stan. As she leans in to give Stan a kiss Eric pokes me in the shoulder and I whip my head back to the front just in time to see that Fosse is the last person to board the bus. Clyde immediately pulls him into his seat and begins talking furiously into his ear. Oh shit! They're already planning an attack. Fosse's head bolts up and he stares at our group for a moment before an angry look crosses his face and he returns to listening to Clyde.

"Guys we need to fill this empty seat" I hiss as the bus takes off once again. We've only got ten minutes.

"There's nothing we can do without leaving our positions compromised!" Kyle answers. So the minutes slip by. I reassure myself that we have a good defense worked out. Eric and Kyle as our first wave verbal rebuff, followed by Stan's muscle as a physical rebuff. And of course Wendy and I as backup to pull people off or attack from the back if need be.

When the breaks screech for the third stop I can't help but notice all the excited whispering that is coming from the front of the bus. Apparently everyone else knows what is going to happen in the next 33 minutes too. When the door opens Token is the first to enter and he immediately seats himself behind Fosse and Clyde. As the rest of our classmates deposit their selves into seats the two begin angrily whispering to him. It isn't until Craig boards that I start to really worry about our chances. Craig has bee wrestling since the 7th grade, and has developed massive mussels in his arms. He can probably break someone skinny like me in half. Add to that the fact that he already looks pissed off this morning. Probably didn't like getting up so early... But once he's sitting down beside Token the bus starts moving again. That means we should have 32 minutes before we'll arrive someplace relatively safe.

"Ok guys, huddle up. We may not have a chance to go over this again so listen up. I want double coverage between classes wherever possible" Stan starts directing like a sergeant. "I'm still not sure what we are going to do about the last two classes of electives. Let's pray that Pip lucks out and doesn't have any of those guys in them. Since Wendy is willing to help us today that will only leave Algebra with a single guard. Kenny, you are the only one of us who has N Algebra with Pip. You're going to have to get him safely from there to lunch. "

"Yeah, just us blonds" I turn my gaze directly at Pip. "If I grab your hand and start pulling, trust me and run. We've got more than just Craig's group to deal with. North Park is notorious for hating South Park." Pip nods an affirmative.

"God I think you've all infected me with your faggyness. I never used to give a rat's ass what happened to any of you guys" Eric comments. Stan, Kyle, and I all flip him off. Pip graces him with a slightly dirty look.

"PSSST!" is the only warning we receive from Wendy's direction before Craig and Clyde plop into the seat in front of her, directly across from Eric and me. Fosse and Token throw themselves into the seat directly in front of us.

"Aww isn't that cute. It's a little queer circle." Craig is smiling meanly as he says it.

"What do you want Craig? We have a truce." Kyle, our negotiator, stalls for time.

"Yes. The four of you and the four of us do have a shaky standing truce. But..." he pauses for dramatic effect. "That little bitch cowering in the corner has no such protection." Craig then shifts his gaze from Kyle to Stan. "Is he paying you, Marsh? So that he can hide behind all your little girlfriends here? It must be a lot of money if you're willing to be seen in public with him."

"The only girlfriend Stan has on this bus is me asshole" Wendy corrects him loudly.

Craig ignores her. "I'd heard a rumor going around that you all beat the shit out of him in July. That you all got arrested and he was sent in for surgery. Now I'm not sure quite what to think Stan..."

"The rumor mills you listen to must all be a bunch of ignorant pussies then" I interrupt, hoping to steer the conversation away from Pip for a bit. "Actually what happened is that Eric here beat the shit out of four guys." I smirk at the momentary look of shock on Clyde's face behind Craig. I can only hope that Token and Fosse are similarly shocked. I don't dare turn to look right now.

Eric picks up on what I'm doing and runs with it. "That's right Craig. I managed to send 'em all to the E.R." It's not lying really. We're just not telling anyone WHO Eric pummeled this summer.

But Craig is still staring intently at Stan. Shit. It's not working. "I'm not interested Cartman. What I am interested in is getting back to some business with that little pansy back there. Don't be difficult Stan. It really doesn't concern you."

"Sorry. But Pip is my friend now. And I protect my new friends just like I do my old ones." A frenzied whispering begins at the head of the bus where there had been dead silence until that comment. Stan raises his voice indignantly at this. "That's right! Pip is our friend. And you all should just get over what you thought of him in third grade. People change!"

"Speaking of people changing" Token says from my other side, "why the hell are you in on this Cartman? You hate Pip."

"Yeah, well I hate Kyle too. But that didn't stop me from giving YOU a black eye last year for copying his English final. If anyone is going to kill Kyle or get him expelled it'll be ME. And the same goes for Pip now." If his voice wasn't so humorless, I'd swear that he was joking.

"So you are willing to dissolve our truce for that fag?"

"Please Stanley! You don't need to do that for me. Just let this go... we can still be friends" Pip urges.

"No Pip. I don't hand my friends over to sticky little cunts like them." That broke Craig's resolve. He and Clyde both heave themselves out of their seats to lunge at Stan. But Eric throws himself in front of them and shoves. Both parties tumble into Craig's seat. This gives Token and Fosse a clear shot at Stan. Token jumps over his seat, landing next to me, and sends his balled fist toward Stan. I may not be able to beat up Token in a fair fight but I can easily unbalance him right now. I place both of my feet at his side and push with all the strength I have. He's literally airborne and he lands on the scuffling pile of bodies that belong to Eric, Craig, and Clyde.

"We're here" calls Butters from the front of the bus, just before the breaks slam on one last time. Both Kyle and I grab Eric's arms from under the stunned Token and with a fair bit of difficulty we hall him out of the pile. Wendy quickly unlatches the emergency exit door and Stan and Pip quickly duck through it. We follow them as Eric regains his footing just in time for the small jump. Once we land I turn around to see Wendy blocking the way for Fosse to follow us. None of them will lay a finger on her because Token still has the hotts for her, so she's safe. The five of us run into the High School building and high five each other. Other than Eric having a bruised shoulder from his part of the scuffle, we came out if it unscathed. Meanwhile Craig's crew all look like a bunch of asses in front of everyone. Now all we have to do is potentially do that again nine times today...

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Stan shares the first class of the day with me. History. A subject that I have interest in but never really bothered with in school before. I can only hear the same fucking information year after year for so long before I just stop trying. But right now I'm feeling very thankful that Stan is here with me. Token, Clyde, and Craig are all here too giving us death glares. Other than the five of us only Butters is from South Park. The other 23 students are all North Parkers, and the rumors of their hatred of us seem to be true. The looks I'm getting from them are almost as nasty as the ones from Craig's gang. The teacher is an older woman whose name I think is Roberts. She doesn't seem to like South Park much either. She has us all sitting in the back of the class room like its segregation or something. She's handed us our course syllabus and textbook and is now going around the room getting everyone's name, address, and phone number. When she reaches me she looks me up and down like I'm an animal to judge and wrinkles her nose.

"Name?"

"Kenny McCormick"

"Your phone number?"

"I don't have one" I answer in a stony tone to match hers.

"Don't give me any lip boy! What is your telephone number?"

"My family doesn't have a phone." I can hear snickering coming from the front of the class. Great, twenty minutes into this new school and already everyone is going to know that I'm poor... But apparently that isn't enough for this bitch.

"And WHY does your family not have a phone?" She's going to fucking make me say it out loud to boot. So I do the only thing I can do. I raise my head high and say it clearly for everyone.

"My family is suffering from a time of financial difficulty ma'am."

"He's fucking South Park trailer trash" I hear a voice from the front say loudly enough that the teacher should have heard it too. But she ignores it.

"Well do you have an ADDRESS?" I can't help but grind my teeth at that one.

"I don't live in a BOX...ma'am" I can see Stan next to me staring at this woman in shock.

"Write it down then!" She waits for me to do so before moving to Stan with the information sheet. "Name!" she demands of him.

"Stan Marsh" This makes her raise her eyebrows.

"The Cows first string quarterback?"

"And their pitcher" Stan adds, knowing that despite always losing to the Bobcats at football, North Park hadn't won a baseball game against South Park since Stan joined the team. This could possibly earn him a bit of respect.

"I hope you enjoyed that while it lasted Mr. Marsh." Ouch. That's a low blow. "YOU have a phone number don't you?"

"Yes."

"Well at least someone in that little hick town does. Write it here along with your address."

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_Stan's POV_

"What a bitch" are the first words out of my mouth when the bell rings and we race from the room.

"We can't let them get to us or they win."

"But she could be right Kenny. They may not let me play ball here. That would suck so much ass!" As the hallways become more crowded we both start looking out for legs with the intent of tripping us. But in watching for them we miss the arm that flies out of nowhere and slaps Kenny's history book out of his hands, sending it to the floor open and face down. I know what's coming next before it even happens as I hear the crack of a foot stamping on the spine of the book.

"You'd better watch your back you shrimpy little trailer slime!" calls the same voice I'd heard mocking him in History. I can do nothing but watch Kenny pick up the book that he'll now have to somehow pay to replace at the end of the year and continue on walking.

"Well Stan, have the other guys pray for me. I've got D Chemistry." he calls as I turn down a different corridor as my friend.

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I reached Chemistry without any further hindrance and found myself only the second person in the room. Luckily for me the other face was a friendly one.

"Fucking hell, this school sucks balls!"

"Aw don't hold back Cartman. Tell me how you REALLY feel" I joke, smiling for the first genuine smile of the day. But it quickly fades.

"My asshole teacher for History had the goddamn nerve to put us into study groups... Four dudes Stan. Four dudes that looked like they could have bench pressed a bus. All I heard for the rest of the hour was fat jokes!" he complains.

"Well you should have seen what the bitch I just had did to Kenny. She practically made him announce over the P.A. system that his family is poor. She even had the nerve to ask him in front of the whole class if he was homeless! And then between classes just now some asshole totally crushed his history book! This place is..."

"Terrible" Wendy's voice finishes for me as she seats herself next to the two of us at the large black toped table followed by Pip. Pip looks angry and Wendy is beet red for some reason. "Some jackass 10th grader just jumped us in the hall!" I turn to Pip with a questioning look.

"It wasn't me he was after Stanley." Oh my god!

"The guy just started coming on to me. And when I ignored him he grabbed my ass. Oh, Stan I shouldn't have hit him. I was just so angry, but I've probably made things worse." My girlfriend looks about ready to burst, she's blushing so hard... and I can't do anything but stare in shock. But I don't have time to throw a fit because others are trickling into the room. Luckily the faces entering are familiar ones. Bebe enters followed by Tweek, Butters, and Jimmy. I thank Jesus more every time I see a South Park face. By the time the bell rings it has become obvious that the fact that EVERYONE is a South Parker can't be coincidence. When the teacher enters the room he closes the door behind him.

He writes his name in neat cursive on the dry erase board. _Mr. Hicks_. "Settle in class." When he is met with silence he continues. "Now I'm sure you've all noticed that you all know each other in this class. Yes this class is composed of 100 percent South Park students. It seems that the school board is tired of hearing about how you poor kids keep getting your eyebrows blown off by the home team around here. Let's start with a fact about myself. I'm from Minnesota. I moved to Colorado eight years ago. And I lived and taught in South Park myself for two years before moving here. I know all about the pointless rivalry around here and I don't agree with it. You'd think this was the Packers and Vikings or something!" He pauses, seeing our confused look at the last comment. "Sorry, it's a Minnesota thing. Anyway, the point of my requesting a South Park only class is that this will not only hopefully help you do better in Chemistry but also avoid any untimely 'accidents.' It should also give you a chance to come to someone with any major problems you're having since I know that some of the staff here also like to bully you students." I notice that I'm not the only person in the room to nod vigorously at that. "Now I want to take this first day to get to know you all so let's get these books and the syllabus passed out. We'll also be working with five lab teams with five members each so I'm going to need you to all even yourselves out. Pick whatever groups you wish."

"Oh, thank you Jesus" I hear Cartman mutter.

"Hey Jimmy" Wendy calls over to the overcrowded table next to ours. "Why don't you come join is?"

"Sure Wendy. That'll b-be great." Mr. Hicks walks up setting five rather thin textbooks and five sheets of paper entitled '_Course Aims_' in the middle of the table as Jimmy struggles to pull his stool over to our lab station.

"Can I get all your names?"

"Philip Pirrip sir."

"Eric Cartman."

"Stan Marsh" I add.

"Wendy Testaburger."

"Jimmy Valmer" Jimmy adds last, having finally gotten himself seated on his stool with us.

The teacher writes this all down on his seating chart. "Well I'll be back as soon as I've got this filled out completely." As he walks to the next lab station Pip voices his opinion.

"Well this teacher seems like an alright fellow. Perhaps they are actually nice for the most part and we have just had unfortunate experiences first period."

"Don't be stupid Pip" Cartman argues. "He's from Minnesota. They're ALL super friendly there. Those people just don't know HOW to be assholes." The discussion continues until Mr. Hicks returns to our table with a stool.

"How are we doing guys? Fell free to be candid, this is off the record."

"Well it's like this" Cartman says taking control of the conversation, "we all want to know our odds. How many of the teachers here are going to be dicks? How many are going to be neutral or on our side?" I watch intently for the man's reaction to the language, but he's unphased.

"Well Eric, luckily only about a quarter of the teachers are going to give you a hard time. The other three quarters are neutral I suppose. They either don't seem to notice the difference or are too professional at their jobs to treat you all any differently that the students raised in North Park."

"What about the situation with the students treating us all like crap?" I ask.

"There's light at the end of the tunnel with that one Stan. You'll probably have to tough it out for the rest of ninth grade. Think of it as the North Park version of culling the herd. They'll drive out all the kids that can't handle it. But hopefully by this time next year if you don't upset everyone somehow you'll just be left alone with your inner circle." There are two other questions that I have to get out while I have this opportunity...

"What about if they start going too far?" I look at Wendy as I say it. But Hicks sees the look.

"Why? What happened this morning?"

Wendy blushes all over again. "Some jerk grabbed me in the hall" she mumbles, not being able to bring herself to say 'grabbed my ass' on front of a teacher.

He frowns before answering. "Well... honestly? If you don't think it'll happen again I'd say just let it go. But if it does happen again, come to me. I'll see if I can talk to him without getting you directly involved." Wendy nods.

"And what about my football and baseball? Is there any chance of getting the school team here?" I ask, feeling like an ass after such a more serious question.

But he smiles at me. "They won't refuse you if you've really got the rest of the team beat talent-wise Stan."

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_Cartman's POV_

As Wendy and I flank Pip toward English I feel a lot better about this place that I had after my first class. Mr. Hicks isn't a prick like most teachers are and, unlike History where I have a cunt for a teacher, I may actually give this class a try. Apparently we get to do a lot of stuff with mixing and testing chemicals in this class, which sounds totally sweet. We're supposed to read like seven pages from the front of our book about what the periodic table of elements is and how to read it. Then we pick out the element that we guess would cause the biggest explosion when mixed with water. He says he's bringing a couple samples of elements that explode to class tomorrow to explode behind bomb glass!

I'm brought out of the sweet thought of stuff exploding when an arm shoots out from behind me hitting the two books I'm holding in an attempt to knock them onto the floor. But my grip on them is iron tight and the attempt fails. I quickly slam the breaks on and extend my elbow behind me catching the pussy in the ribs. When I hear him fall to the floor I turn and give him the best fake sympathetic look I can. "Oops. Better watch where you're going friend." Then I flip the guy off and continue to catch up with the other two. That ought to show that looser who's the highest on the food chain around here.

When we finally halt in front of the English class room we find the Jew standing as inconspicuously as possible by a row of lockers near the door. He seems to be surveying us before sighing.

"I was hoping that Kenny was with you guys. I just overheard something in the hall." That gets my attention. "Something about a little blond South Park rat is going to get it... So it's either Pip, Butters, or Kenny. And obviously Pip is right here and still breathing..." Kyle is cut off from going any more into it by a figure turning the corner at the far end of the corridor. Well actually, falling on their ass trying to take the turn at a dead out run would be a more accurate. But in the moment it takes the figure to pick himself up I recognize him. Kenny. But he's already back on his feet and sprinting toward us, his long hair flying behind him. Moments later a pack of a half dozen guys come into view in hot pursuit. Holy shit!

"KENNY!" I call out to him, shoving Pip through the door into the classroom. Wendy ducks in after him, followed by the Jew. I grab onto the knob of the door and silently urge my friend to go faster. He keeps up his speed until he nearly collides with me. I give him a hard shove into the room and follow, closing the door with me. I don't even have time to think as I lock it because of the sudden pounding coming from the other side. I turn wide eyed back to Kenny, who is gasping for air. "What the fuck was that!"

"Assholes..." he gasps. "Cornered me.. after Chemistry. They just... started shoving me around... giving me shit about being a shrimp...and being poor." He pauses after this, still panting.

"And?" I urge. He roles his eyes.

"So I told the guy doing the talking that since he knew how poor I was he could tell...his momma to forget the five bucks I owed her for... the blowjob last night..." Despite the seriousness of the situation I can't help but chuckle at that.

"You know Kenny" I say throwing my arm around his shoulders, "no one is a dirtier little bastard than you."

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Having Advanced English with Kenny, I've decided halfway through this class, is the only thing that is going to save my ass from humiliation. I've never been one of those losers that go home after school and curls up with a good book. Heck, I'll even admit that I'm actually a real slow reader. So when I see the required reading list for this class I nearly piss myself. I've never read all the way through that many books before in my LIFE! _A Tale of Two Cities_, _Lord of the Flies_, _Lord of the Rings_, _Catch 22_, _Great Expectations_, the list just doesn't end. I look up from the list and stare at the teacher. Perhaps this is some sick joke! But no, she has a stack of paperbacks littering her desk and is handing them out already.

"I'm going to start us out this quarter with _Lord of the Flies _since it is one of the shortest pieces we'll be working on this year... Yes?" She motions to Kyle, whose arm just shot into the air.

"What should we do if we've already read several of the books on the list, you know, for fun?" I grind my teeth. Fuck you Kyle, you smart ass. But several others are nodding to the question too. That many people have already read most of those books? The thought makes me sink in my chair.

"We'll be writing a three page summery and a critical personal review on each book we read. So it is best to reread any book you've already read to brush up. But I also have opportunities for extra credit for students that have pre-read any of this year's books. Since some of these books are on the reading list for Normal level English I'd like some volunteers for tutoring any students that may have trouble. But we'll discuss that later in the week... What I want you to do today in class is write out a small autobiography about yourselves. Please include your name, address, and phone number at the top of the page for my records." She turns and writes this on the board. "You may include information like your favorite authors or books, favorite band, your physical appearance, information about your family or faith, or what you do in your spare time." She writes out a few of her suggestions of the board also. "I would also like you to include a closing paragraph explaining why you chose to take this class and what you hope to accomplish here. Please make this paper at least two pages in length." At this she seats herself at her desk, signaling that she is finished.

As the time ticks away I find that writing two pages about myself isn't that difficult. But the last part about what I am doing here is a bit trickier. I'm here because of my bet with the Jew, and there's now a bit of my personal pride at stake as well... But do I dare put the real reason down on paper? And what DO I want to accomplish in this class?

"You have 5 minutes to finish" our teacher announces. Deciding that I don't have much time to think of anything else I start jotting.

_The reason that I am taking this class is a matter of pride. A rather annoying red and blue haired 'friend' of mine bet me one hundred dollars that I wasn't smart enough in school to take any Advanced level courses. And upon seeing what we'll be reading this year I can't help but worry that he could have been right. As for what I hope to accomplish here, I hope to receive at least a C grade so that I can get my one hundred dollars and the right to rub my 'friend's' face in the fact that he was wrong. I AM smart enough! _

The bell rang as I was scribbling out the last words. "All right students, please pass your autobiographies to the front. Tonight's assignment is to read the first chapter of _Lord of the Flies_. We'll be discussing it in class tomorrow." Shit. I hand my paper to the front and collect my things together. Kenny is doing the same on my left and so is Kyle on my right.

"So which of the books have you already read Kyle?" Kenny asks as we head toward the door.

"Most of them actually. How about you?"

"Just _Lord of the Rings _and _Lord of the Flies_." Kenny answers.

"What about you Cartman?" That damn Jew knows that I haven't. I can feel my cheeks redden. It's either anger or embarrassment... probably both. I just shake my head and pick up my pace walking.

Kenny must have sensed that I'm getting extremely pissed off because his tone turns soothing. "You'll like _Lord of the Flies _Eric. I think it'll be your kind of book." The soothing tone might work normally but not with Kyle still taking shots at me.

"What, you mean short and simple to understand?" I whirl around, intent on giving that fucking Jew a piece of my mind. But Kenny beats me to it.

"Goddamn it Kyle, that's enough! Eric isn't a damn genius like you ok, we get it. And while you're at it I'm stupid compared to you too. So why don't you rip on someone else that is inferior to your great intelligence for a change!" Kenny grabs me by the elbow and leads me away.

He walks with me in silence all the way to D Physics even though it's far past his class. When we reach the door he finally speaks. "He doesn't mean it Eric. It's just that... you never really tried in middle school or even before that. I think that deep down he knows how smart you really are, and that if you actually try this year you'll unseat him as the smart one in our group."

I chuckle. "I'm not into book smarts and I probably won't ever be. But I remember what you said at the end of last year about making everyone know your name... I want that too." He just smiles at me. "You know, if our third grade selves could see us now they'd probably kick us in the nuts for being such pussies about this stuff" I add. Kenny gives a loud laugh before walking back toward his class.

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_Kyle's POV_

By the time I reach my Physics class I've decided that Kenny was just overreacting. I haven't been treating Cartman any different than everyone normally does. When I enter the class I see Stan sitting in the back right in front of the room's only window. I sink myself into the seat to his left and Pip follows into the seat to his right.

"Where's Kenny?" I haven't had a class with Stan yet so I shake off my nonsensical surprise that he doesn't already know. This isn't South Park, so everyone doesn't automatically know everything that goes on between the four of us like they used to.

"He got all pissy about me teasing Cartman and walked off with him. He'll make it back by the bell I'm sure. How's your day been going?"

"I've got one teacher that's out to make South Parker's lives miserable, one that seems to be on our side, and one that's just pretending that none of us exist. You?"

"It sounds like I lucked out so far. I've got three teachers that don't seem to care one way or another about where anyone comes from." As more students file into the room it becomes apparent that this class is going to be devoid of anyone we know except our group, and Kenny still hadn't arrived. When a woman who looks to be in her mid twenties enters I can't help but blink a few times. This woman is HOT! She has long black hair and dark brown eyes. She also looks to be at least part Asian. All around me I can see others reacting too.

"All right children let's wind down. The bell will ring in a moment." I can't help but think that this woman, who is obviously our teacher, is stretching it a bit by calling us children. She can't be more than nine years older than us. Kenny comes rushing into the room and seconds later the bell rings. He quickly rushes to the empty desk by Pip, sitting farthest from me. Is he still pissed off or something? The cute teacher gives him a look but lets his near lateness pass.

"Welcome to ninth grade normal level Physics. I'm Mrs. Son" I don't think anyone in the room could have missed the emphasis she placed on the word 'Mrs.' The tone of voice very clearly says 'stop looking at my chest because I'm already taken'. It doesn't stop many of the guys in the room from staring though. "We'll begin by going through the room and telling everyone an interesting fact about yourselves."

I sort of tune out what the North Park kids are saying in favor of trying to decide what I'll say when my turn comes. But when they come to Kenny I've already decided and tune back in to hear what my friends say. The entire class is turned in their desks looking at us alone in the back.

"Well, my name is Kenny McCormick. The only interesting fact about me... is that I've died 674 times." Kenny kept count? Who knew? But the rest of the classroom is staring at Kenny like he should be in a straitjacket or something. Kenny's got this shit eating grin on his face too. "Er, I mean I'm a writer" he says as if the first part just slipped out on accident.

"My name is Philip Pirrip, though my friends call me Pip. The most interesting thing about me is that I once won an international dodge ball championship against the Chinese team." More stares followed Pip's statement. Everyone knows how cutthroat Chinese dodge ball is.

"I'm Stan Marsh. I've never lost a game of middle school baseball."

"I'm Kyle Broflowski and I've got an adopted Canadian brother named Ike." I think I could have announced that my goal in life was to blow up the school for all the notice I got. Most of the class is still either looking at Kenny nervously or at Pip and Stan like they are sports gods or something. Even Mrs. Son is looking at the three of them funny.

"Er...right. Now that I have all your names let's get books passed out."

Class passes relatively uneventfully after introductions. We're supposed to be reading section one and two of the first chapter in our books. I've already finished and wrote half of a page of notes down in my notebook when the bell rings. Mrs. Son tells us to finish reading at home if we haven't already finished and everyone files out.

As we all make our way toward our separate math classes, each with a cumbersome load of textbooks, I can't help but feel a sort of dread in my stomach. I've always been good with numbers and math comes easily for me. When they placed me in an advanced math class last year I didn't really think much of it. And when I found out that they'd skipped me ahead again this year it didn't really shock me much. But now, as I near the door I can't help but worry, not because of the class, but because of the people in it. Geometry is a class you don't normally take unless you are in 11th grade.

As I enter I immediately think of my little brother and of how he must have felt all those years ago starting kindergarten early. The people in this room look so much older than me! Unlike most of the teachers I've had so far, this one is sitting at her desk waiting for the students to file in. She gives me a surprised look, then rises and moves toward where I've stalled inside the doorway.

"Are you having trouble finding your class young man?" she asks in a friendly tone.

"No ma'am this is my room." I hand her my schedule, which she scans quickly.

"Skipped ahead two years?" she asks still reading my schedule. I nod. "And from South Park to boot?" I nod a second time. "Well...Kyle, if you have any trouble keeping up just let me know alright." She motions to a desk in the front of the class near her desk. I stack my books into the compartment in the desk and seat myself. Other students continue to trickle into the room and I get more than a few confused looks.

When the bell rings the teacher closes the door and approaches the board. She spends a few moments writing with the squeaky blue marker until she steps aside. "Good afternoon class, and welcome to Advanced Geometry. I'm Ms. Zotalis. We will be spending this first class getting to know each other and I'll be getting to know your skill levels. After I get your contact information and hand out texts we'll all be taking a quick test to see what you remember from last year." A few people from the back of the room groan. "But before all that I just want to make sure that everyone here can easily pair up with a study buddy when the need comes up. So, do you all know each other?" The 11th graders look around at each other and for the most part they nod back at Ms. Zotalis. "Is there anyone you don't know at all?" The class simultaneously points at me. I feel my cheeks heat. "Well why don't you stand up and tell us all a bit about yourself..." I bite the bullet and stand.

"Well... my name is Kyle. The reason none of you know me is because I'm in 9th grade. But I'm also from South Park." A few of the students in the back frown at this but others raise their hands. "Er... Yes?" I point to a girl in the third row.

"How did you do that with your hair? I mean didn't the blue dye run together with the red dye?"

"Well the red is actually my normal hair color. But yeah the blue DID run a little bit. So now the streaks are just wider than they started out." This kind of questioning I could handle. I point to another girl in the third row.

"Are you like a genius or something...getting into this class and all?" I blush again at that question.

"I...I guess I just like math. Numbers make sense to me." I answer shrugging.

"Is that a pentagram hanging in your nose?" calls a guy from the back of the room. "Are you like a Wicca or do you worship Satan or something?" Before I can open my mouth to answer Ms. Zotalis cuts in.

"You don't have to answer any questions like that Kyle." She gives the student that yelled the question a sharp look.

"It's ok. Actually this" I say pointing to the tiny gold star dangling from my nose, "is the Star of David. It's a Jewish symbol not a Wicca one. The star of a pentagram is turned in a different direction..." I silently take note of all those in the classroom that gave an unhappy look at hearing that I was Jewish. There is a group of three guys in the back row who don't seem to like the fact that I'm not only from South Park, but also an over achieving 9th grader and Jewish on top of it. They would be people to avoid in the future if possible. Luckily I'm allowed to be seated again as Ms. Zotalis begins to make her way around the room collecting the same contact information I've written out four times already today.

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The damn lunch bell couldn't have rang soon enough I decide as I trudge out of Geometry. The review test was for the most part a breeze, but thinking that hard has somehow drained all of my energy. I'm shuffling toward my locker on the north side of the building to deposit the giant stack of books I've accumulated since the start of the day when I hear Wendy's voice calling to me. I watch my best friend's girl approach.

"You look like you could use help Kyle" she says plucking two textbooks and the corresponding folders and notebooks from the top of the pile.

"Thanks."

"Stan enlisted Tweek's help to hold a lunch table for all of us. But we need to get there soon. I don't know how much longer they'll be able to fend off Craig and Token by themselves." I stop at locker 199 N. On the second try the locker opens for me.

"Those guys are being dicks" I say as I pile everything into the top section of my locker. "The one thing we're going to need to survive this year is a united front. And Craig's pack of idiots is splitting us allin half."

"I don't think it's so much splitting us in half. It's really more splitting you guys from everyone else." She hands me my last items back and I cram them into my locker too. I pull my lunch out from the bottom section, under my coat.

"What do you mean?" I ask shutting it.

"What I mean is that you've got no supporters in this choice you guys made with Pip" she explains as we walk toward the cafeteria. "Most of the girls are on Craig's side because that's where the desirable guys are." I open my mouth to deny that but Wendy continues. "Think about it. Stan's taken, Cartman's... well its Cartman, Kenny's too shabby looking and poor, and you...well" she trails off.

"I'm a Jewish nerd with a bitch for a mother" I add helpfully, scowling.

"It's not MY opinion Kyle! But yes. So you don't have any of the girls. And you're going to find that most, if not all, of the guys are going to side with Craig too. None of you has a reputation for going around beating people up for no reason like Craig does. The meek guys are going to side with him out of fear. The guys right under you on the popularity latter are going to side with him because they hate Pip too, and Cartman's pissed off enough people in general to scare away any indecisive people." We reach the lunch area and I do a quick scan looking for Stan. I'm unsuccessful at spotting him, but Wendy drags me into the chaos.

"Speaking of Pip, were he and Kenny at lunch yet when you left?"

"No, we haven't seen them yet... Cartman either."

We break through the huge crowd toward the back of the cafeteria in search of our table and I finally start to spot familiar faces. "Wendy! Kyle! Over here!" Kenny's voice rings out. Wendy rushes into the seat next to Stan and I sit next to Kenny. "You are NOT going to believe what fucking happened" he says as soon as I get seated.

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Evil cliffy Anyway, I'm once again going to have to split up a chapter. This one was getting WAY too long! For those of you wondering, yes this was more of a set up chapter than anything else. I've got plenty of action and drama planned and you're going to be getting it soon. Stay tuned. We're going to travel back in time about half an hour and see what's got Kenny so excited in the next chapter: 'No Longer Pip the Meek'


	5. No Longer Pip the Meek

**_In it for the Long Haul_**

**Chapter 5:**

"No Longer Pip the Meek"

_Chapter Rating_:

PG

_Story Notes:_

This is a short continuation of Chapter 4. Most of the events are happening in the same time period as the events from that chapter.

_Misc. Notes_:

Just a short note to let everyone know that I've started a C2 group for South Park stories. The only criteria is that they must be of superior quality and also at least 2,000 words. If you have a suggestion that I haven't posted yet feel free to a note to me in an email. Just remember that does not let us add "M" stories to C2. Sadly I can't even link my OWN story to it...

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_Kenny's POV_

I've been counting down the minutes to lunch ever since this class started. The teacher is an evil bitch who not only hates South Parkers, but students in general. So it was quickly established that we would get into a daily routine of sit down, shut up, work on 3 pages of math problems without any instructions, and don't get out of your seat. Even if you needed to sharpen your pencil apparently. Bitch. Not only that but I am also surrounded by assholes. Since there is a seating chart I've been placed in the back corner surrounded by Fosse, Clyde, and a North Park kid that hasdecided that I'm the best target in the class for throwing shit at. At least Pip's fairly safe sitting in the second row right in front of the bitch's desk.

Only two minutes to go... Luckily Eric's class turns out to be only three rooms down from here. He's going to walk to lunch with us, which is great luck because I don't think that Clyde and Fosse would have let an opportunity at getting Pip and I alone go by. One minute... I place my half finished assignment into my math book as a bookmark and start gathering together my things when I feel another chunk of an eraser hit my forehead. I keep my face carefully blank as I wait for the seconds to tick by.

When the bell rings students pour out of the room in a stampede. Neither Clyde nor Fosse budges. Pip has wisely not made a move either. "Pip we're supposed to wait for Eric" I tell Pip loudly for the two assholes to hear. They share a look and quickly leave. Probably going to set up an ambush after getting a few more people involved.

"Righto Kenneth." Ugg. I've basically given up on getting Pip to call me anything else. He seems to think that it's rude to call people by anything other than their given name.

"Righto Kenneth" mimics a voice from the doorway as Eric steps into the room. "Come on you guys. Those buttholes were heading off to get backup. And I'm wasting away here anyway." Both Pip and I follow Eric as he turns and leaves.

We make it all the way down to the second floor safely before we're suddenly surrounded by a different group of people than we were expecting.

"Well well, what do we have here?" Fuck! It's the same group of jocks that I pissed off earlier today. "The little bitch has friends. Who'd have thought?" The whole group laughs as if their ringleader had just told an awesome joke or something. "It figures that this faggy little shrimp would be friends with a fat ass and a little poof with a girly hat." The spokesman steps toward us and makes a grab at Pip's beret but Eric steps forward and swats his hand away in midair.

"Fuck off" he tells them, crossing his arms and glaring. "And I'm not fat, I'm just bulking up."

The ringleader just stares at Eric in shock. "What the hell was that kid? Do you even know who I am? I'm Rick Winters!"

"Rick who..." I provoke. One of his little henchmen spits on the ground.

"Rick Winters. The mayor's son. He runs this school now, and thistown!" Eric just continues glaring, uninterested.

"Look, I don't give a rat's ass if you're the son of the fucking queen of England. So why don't all you ass rammers just get the hell out of our way and go fuck yourselves?"

The sputtering sounds coming out of Rick's mouth are a clear ticket to leave. And we would have done so, but the jackass found his voice and proceeded to say JUST the wrong thing back at Eric. "We don't need to go fuck ourselves. Your momma already did that." Oh...Shit! I can see Eric tense up. But apparently Rick doesn't understand the reason for the lack of response and digs his hole deeper. "What? You're not going to defend your slut mother huh?"

Surprisingly the sudden, hard, blow to Rick's face doesn't come from Eric, who I'm holding back, but from Pip. And as quickly as he lands the first punch he deals Rick a second one with his other arm knocking him back into the arms of his posse. The surprise is so great that even Eric stops struggling against me and just stares.

"The first punch was for insinuating that my friend's mother would engage in illegal sexual relations with a minor." Pip says frowning. "The second was for calling Eric's mother a scarlet woman." The hall is in ashocked silence as he steps forward, raises his arm again, and this time delivers a slap to the guy's face that echoes for several seconds afterward. "And THAT was for insulting a woman who is ill." Pip finishes.

I don't think that Rick's eyes, along with all of his buddies', could have gotten any bigger. "W..what the hell is wrong with you dude? Don't you understand who I am?"

"Apologize!" Pip demands, finally raising his voice.

"I'm not gonna say I'm sorry to that fat asshole for insulting his fucking mother." Eric starts to struggle against my grip again at that.

"I'd do what he says butt fucker" I advise coldly, struggling to keep my grip. "Otherwise I'm going to let Eric go. And he's a hell of a lot tougher than Pip here. He put four people in the hospital a few months back because one of them insulted his mother."

THAT takes Rick back. But he tries to play it cool. "Fine you babies. I'm sorry. Let's go guys." he calls to the rest of his group. They all reluctantly follow him away. Several bursts of applause startle me out of watching him go though. Behind us there are several people I can only vaguely identify as sharing some classes with me applauding.

"I think that perhaps we should be heading to lunch chaps" Pip mutters. So I release Eric and pat him on the shoulder.

"I Couldn't let you get expelled on the first day you know." He frowns at me but says nothing, knowing that I'm right. "Don't let them get at you. They don't even know who your mom is."

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"Wendy! Kyle! Over here!" I call out when I see them pushing through the crowd toward us. Wendy hurries into the seat I left vacant next to Stan and Kyle drops into the seat next to me. "You are NOT going to believe what fucking happened" I say as soon as he gets situated.

As I retell what happened to Kyle, Wendy, and Stan I can practically SEE the respect they each have for Pip quadruple. They all look at him with the same wide eyed stare as I'm sure Eric and I were giving him as it was all happening. Pip simply sits there blushing and rubbing his obviously sore knuckles. Eric, who is sitting next to me, is still looking extremely angry. But our cozy chat is interrupted as I'm tapped on the shoulder from behind.

"Is the rumor true? Did one of you South Park kids deck Rick Winters?" I don't recognize this guy from any of my classes. "No one has ever dared give that asshole what he's had coming to him before."

"Actually" I say, "it was Pip here. And yeah he hit that douche...twice actually." The guy addressing me leans carefully across the table and extends his hand to Pip, who shakes it.

"Well... Pip you've probably single-handedly earned your whole group here both the friendship and respect of most of the 9th grade class. I'm Ken Matthees. Glad to know you."

"Hoosajiggawha?" Eric sputters.

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That's all for this mini chapter. We'll be jumping forward in time for the next chapter so we'll see exactly what Pip's gotten everyone into. Stay tuned for Chapter 6: 'You Hit Me Because You're Right'


	6. You Hit Me Because You're Right

**__**

In it for the Long Haul

Chapter 6:  
"You Hit Me Because You're Right"

Chapter Rating:  
PG-13

_Story Notes:  
_Get ready to see some serious violence this chapter guys!

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Kenny's POV

As I lean back in my chair in the last class of the day I can't help but think back on all that has happened in the last four months. It's Friday, January 8th today, the last day of our first semester. None of the teachers have any homework for us today and have mostly just let us piss away the day doing whatever. Today seems like a perfect day to reflect on the past while I await my end of term grades.

If there's one thing that I've learned so far this year it's been that I'm a firm believer in karma. Or at least I like to think that my life for the past few months has been a result of good karma. Of course if someone had told me a year ago that my popularity in high school would be determined by becoming friends with someone like Pip I would have kicked them in the nuts for bull-shitting me. I mean, who would have thought that our little group's fate would be decided by three quick movements of Pip's arm and an asshole that everyone hated named Rick Winters? But that's exactly what happened.

Pip didn't know what to do with himself for a while. But he never let the popularity he'd gained for decking the biggest douche in North Park go to his head. I mean, sure he went to a fair number of parties to make up for all the ones he hadn't been invited to in the past, but he never distanced himself from us. He knows that the popularity he gained won't last forever and he is sticking to those who have proved they'll have his back...

Stan ended up getting to join the football team. He was the first South Parker to be accepted onto the team in the last ten years. He was our second string quarterback, number 42, for the whole incredible season ending in a respectable third place in our high school division...

Wendy made up for all the friends she ended up losing to what we've dubbed 'the great Pip rift' and then some. It seems that she's finally found some friends that are on the same level that she is here...

Kyle did exactly what we all knew he would do. He basked in the popularity for a few days and then stuck his nose right back into his textbooks.

As for Eric and me... we soaked everything up like a couple of sponges. We watched with detachment as Craig got his ass beaten in the typical anti-South Park style, hung out at every party we could possibly cram into our schedule, and enjoyed all the hospitality that the town of North Park had to offer a couple of students that weren't on the enemy list. But we also spent a lot of nights with just the two of us at his house studying. I think I enjoyed those nights better than the parties...

"Kenny McCormick" my Study Hall supervisor calls, neatly cutting off my daydreaming. I rush to his desk and he hands me a folded computer print out with my name written on it. I hear him call out Eric's name after mine, going down the row, but I tune it out. I'm too intent on reading my grades.

Student: McCormick, Kenneth

Grade: 9

Semester: 1

Normal level History: A

Developmental level Chemistry: C+

Advanced level English: A+

Normal level Physics: B-

Normal level Algebra: B-

Developmental level Speech: D

PE-Boys: B

Writing: A+

Study Hall: N/A

I read it over again a second time to make sure I'm not dreaming and then proceed to do a victory dance in my chair. I can't believe it! I passed Speech. Thank you Jesus!

"What the hell is that supposed to be" Eric snickers, sitting back down with his grades.

"I passed Speech. And this is the patented McCormick victory dance of joy." I retort and then go back to dancing in my chair. I continue for about a minute before I can feel Eric staring at me. "Well?"

"What can I say man, you're a god." He breaks out a huge grin. "I couldn't have done it without you." He hands me his grades and then snatches mine from the table in front of me.

Student: Cartman, Eric

Grade: 9

Semester: 1

Developmental level History: C

Normal level Chemistry: A

Advanced level English: C+

Developmental level Physics: C

Developmental level Algebra: C-

Normal level Speech: A

PE-Boys: D

Youth Psychology: B+

Study Hall: N/A

"Damn dude, why didn't you tell me you were like a chemistry wiz? I mean you've always been good at public speaking so that was a given but... an A in Chemistry!" I slap my best friend on the back in congratulations.

"I was actually more focused on the English grade. Do you think that I can get $50 out of Kyle today on the way home?" he asks me, already calculating what he's going to buy with Kyle's money. He deserves every penny too. At the beginning I thought that his bet with Kyle was just beyond Eric's abilities to win. His slow reading was a crutch that we had to spend nearly 30 hours a week overcoming. And I spent the night in Eric's room more often than in my own when we had midterms and finals in English, helping him cram all of the assigned books into his head.

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As Eric and I head to our lockers after the final bell he is bouncing ideas off of me about what to spend his money on. He has chosen to ignore my warning that Kyle doesn't technically have to give him any money until June 3rd in favor of inventorying everything he wants that costs $50.

"So what are the plans for this weekend?" I ask trying to steer his thoughts in a different direction.

"Well mom has another checkup in Denver tonight, so I'll be there for the whole night..." I spin the combination on my locker and pop it open in silence. "Other than that I don't have any plans until that party at Lee's tomorrow night. Why?" I dump everything into the top of my locker and snatch the sweatshirt that I use as a jacket out of the bottom.

"I... I suppose that I'll just end up going home and writing some poetry or something tonight then." The thought of going home instead of spending time with Eric makes my stomach queasy for some reason. But I try my best to erase the miserable look from my face by the time I pull my head through my huge green 'jacket', but I've apparently done a poor job of it.

"Well your coming with us too dumbass" he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, shoving me along toward the door and the waiting bus. "We're leaving as soon as I get home, and we won't get home until around midnight. I'd rather have someone along to talk to than sit alone in that damn waiting room. I fucking hate hospitals."

I'm smiling again by the time we board the bus home. As we walk down the isle toward the back seats I notice, with a no small bit of satisfaction, that Token is sporting like the 4th black eye he's gotten this year. I slide into the last set of seats and Eric drops next to me. Pip and Wendy are already sitting there talking.

"Hey Kenny, hey Cartman" Wendy greets us.

"Eric, Kenneth! How did you chaps fare with your end of semester grades?" But before either of us have a chance to answer Pip, Stan rushes onto the bus followed by Kyle. They both scowl at us for taking their favorite seats before taking the spots in front of us.

"Alright Cartman lets see it" are the first words out of Kyle's mouth. Eric quickly plasters a very convincing unhappy look on his face.

"Look Kyle... I don't have the money, alright. Can we work out a...payment plan or something?" I have to give Eric props for fabulous acting. If I hadn't already seen his C+ I would have thought he'd lost his bet too.

"No way Cartman. You lost, and you're going to have to just march your ass home and break into your savings jar or something. Our deal was that you'd pay me $100 if you didn't get a C or better in English." He pauses for a moment and reconsiders. "I guess I could be talked into just $50 up front. That's all the slack I'm willing to give you... If you don't get the grade by the end of the year you'll still owe me the rest!" Eric pulls his grade sheet out of his pocket and heaves a sigh. It's all I can do to stop myself from laughing.

"Fine Jew. I suppose that IS only fair. Here. Read it out loud for all I care." He hands Kyle the sheet. Stan cranes his neck to read it too. It's about fifteen seconds of both sets of eyes darting back and forth before the smirk falls from Kyle's face. I see Stan's eyes dart up to meet Eric's. A quick smile flashes on his lips before he goes back and re-reads it again just to be sure he's seen things correctly.

Kyle's face goes through shock, then anger, and finally rests at a neutral expression for several moments before he bursts out laughing. "Cartman, you're such an asshole." he laughs.

"What does it say?" Wendy asks looking confused.

"Advanced level English. C+." Kyle reads, still laughing a bit. He looks back up at Eric with something akin to respect shining in his eyes. "You did it?"

"Yep, I did it. And I believe you owe me $50." Kyle doesn't even hesitate before digging his wallet out of his back pocket. I can hear Pip, Stan, and Wendy congratulating Eric but I'm too engrossed in the look on his face to really listen. This proud look. This happy look. This look that only I had ever seen on his face before this...

Kyle pulls out two twenties and a ten and holds them out. "It's worth it to see you finally try at something Cartman" he says before placing them in Eric's hand.

We spend the rest of the ride home reading each other's grades and talking about what our parents will say.

Stan was feeling confidant about everything except his Environmental Studies grade...

Student: Marsh, Stanley:

Grade: 9

Semester: 1

Normal level History: B

Normal level Chemistry: B

Normal level English: B

Normal level Physics: C+

Advanced level Algebra: B-

Normal level Speech: B+

PE-Boys: A+

Environmental studies: D+

Shop: A

Wendy and Pip were both sailing pretty smoothly through everything and didn't have any worries.

Student: Testaburger, Wendy

Grade: 9

Semester: 1

Advanced level History: A

Normal level Chemistry: B-

Advanced level English: B+

Advanced level Physics: A-

Advanced level Algebra: A

Advanced level Speech: A+

PE-Girls: B

Environmental studies: A

German: B

Student: Pirrip_, Philip _

Grade: 9

Semester: 1

Advanced level History: A+

Normal level Chemistry: B

Advanced level English: A

Normal level Physics: C+

Normal level Algebra: B

Advanced level Speech: B+

PE-Boys: B

Spanish: A

European History: A

And of course no one was really all that shocked at Kyle's grades. He IS the study bug of our group after all.

Student: Broflowski, Kyle

Grade: 9

Semester: 1

Advanced level History: A

Advanced level Chemistry: A+

Advanced level English: A

Norman level Physics: A-

Advanced level Geometry: A

Advanced level Speech: A+

PE-Boys: A-

Health Studies: A

Biology 9: A+

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Cartman's POV

There are only two feelings in the world better than the feeling of knowing that I have Kyle's money in my pocket. The feeling I had when I first read that English grade... and the feeling of being in love, as gay as that sounds. The feeling of being in love was a short lived thing really, and having a crush on Stan's girlfriend was probably not one of my shining moments. But once Wendy worked through her 'sexual tension' life went back to normal, or as normal as things could get back then. And I got over the feeling fairly quickly too after being forgotten.

But I'm going to hold on to this new feeling of triumph and achievement. The feeling of proving to all my friends that I am not stupid... I know that I probably have a ridiculous grin on my face as Kenny and I trudge through the snow toward my house but I can't make myself care. I'm on top of the world. I have $50, I have the respect of the only five people I'd ever call friends, I've got a weekend free from homework, I have Kenny, and I have an invite to an awesome sounding party on Saturday night.

"And you thought he wouldn't cough it up Kenny" I say, crinkling the three bills in my pocket.

"Are you going to try to spend it while we're in Denver?" he asks me as we turn up the walkway to my front door.

"Probably. I'd rather do anything than wait inside that place. I've been in hospitals way too much for a 15 year old. I was thinking of picking up a few more games for my Playform 64." I still keep the gaming system that predates Stan's Gamesphere because the games are still pretty cool, and you can pick up cartridges for only $10. I swing the front door open and the two of us enter quickly to escape the cold.

"Is that you snookems?" Mother calls from the kitchen.

"Yeah mom. Me and Kenny, he's going to come along." We enter the kitchen to find Mom sitting at the kitchen table making sandwiches. "You didn't have any of those did you mom? You know you can't have anything to eat before those tests" I remind her. I wish she WOULD eat a few sandwiches. She's lost a lot of weight over the months...

"No sweetie. These are for you and Kenny." She hands each of us a ham sandwich. Kenny accepts his hesitantly, but chews it down in four bites. Free lunches at school just aren't enough to fill someone up who doesn't get anything else at home. I know that half a peanut butter sandwich and milk wouldn't do it for me... "You can have a second one if you'd like it" she adds, seeing Kenny's first sandwich disappear so fast. Kenny obliges, grabbing a second sandwich.

"We got our grades today mom" I blurt out, unable to contain the need to feel that happy feeling again as it begins to flit away. I pull the sheet out of my pocket again. "Here."

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Kenny's POV

I feel a bit like I'm intruding, chewing away at a sandwich while Eric's mom reads over his grades. I try my best to blend in with the wallpaper as a mother showers her son with praise while a feeling of pride wells up inside me. I slip silently from the kitchen to the entryway closet and retrieve a downy coat. After giving them a few more moments I call back to them. "Come on you guys. We don't want be late." Both of them emerge from the kitchen and I hold up Ms. Cartman's winter coat for her to put on.

"You're such a good boy Kenny" she says as she pulls her arms into the sleeves. "But you're going to need a jacket too. Especially if you two plan on going out while you wait on me. Eric sweetie can you get your little friend one of your old jackets? I'll start the car."

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Eric wasn't kidding when he said we wouldn't be getting back into town until really late, or early depending on how technical you want to be. At 1:08 in the morning we pull up in front of the hovel I'm forced to call home. I don't really want to be here, I'd rather stay tonight at Eric's. They really need someone right now after hearing more bad news... HE needs me.

When we'd finally met back up with Ms. Cartman in the hospital waiting room at 10:00 she'd been as pale as a ghost and looked too disheartened to even try to put on a cheerful face. The doctor explained to us that the chemical treatments she had been getting to try to slow the diseases' development hadn't worked, that the virus had developed an immunity. He told us that Liane Cartman was looking at one year, two at the most, left judging by the rapid spreading.

I'd felt sick, like I wanted to vomit but couldn't. I had to watch Eric brake down for the second time in my life. But this was much worse than the first time. The look in his eyes was like someone had just swept everything he held dear out from under him and scraped his heart out of his chest. It looked like a physical force had hit him. He simply crumpled into a chair wide eyed, too crushed to even cry. So I did. I cried. Ironically, Eric's mother was the one that took the news the best.

The ride back to South Park seemed like the longest three hours of my life. Eric sat in the back with me, stiff as a board and staring ahead, unblinking. After about half an hour of watching him like that I couldn't stand it anymore. I pulled his head into my lap and stroked his hair like I'd seen done to comfort a child once on TV. After a few minutes he started to shutter slightly and I could feel tiers dampen my pants. He eventually fell into sleep, leaving me to think. Was there any way that I'd feel like this about anyone in my family? …No, I decided. They didn't really care about me the way Eric's mother loved him. But I cried for her because she was the family I wanted. And I would cry like this for Eric because...

That moment, riding back from the hospital was most likely not the best time for the revelation that I had. I suppose you just can't control things like that... But I'd felt the need to clarify any doubts about my sanity, and there was only one person I could really talk to at the time.

"Ms. Cartman?" I asked quietly as to not wake Eric.

"What is it dear?"

"If someone was in love with your son...do you think that person would be able to see him through all this?" I saw her eyes flicker to me in the rearview mirror.

"I think so... I suppose that he'll need someone to help him when… I'm gone." She sounded like she was finding it difficult to talk about it. "But… he has you. You'll help him when I can't, won't you Kenny?"

"What would you think if… if **I** was the one in love with Eric?" There. I'd admitted it out loud, and to his mother of all people. I think I'm in love with my best friend. I saw her eyes flick toward me again in the mirror but she didn't say anything. I craned my neck so that I could see her expression. She was smiling!

And now, more that two hours later, I'm trying to force myself to leave the car. I pull my groggy friend into a hug. "I'm coming over first thing in the morning, alright?" I whisper into his ear. He nods sadly and I let him go, opening the door into the chilly night.

It only takes me seconds to reach the door. As I pull it open I'm not surprised to see the soft flicker of our old television. I close the door behind me and observe Kevin. Stoned again it would seem. There's nothing THAT attention getting about infomercials. Whatever, he's stoned at least three nights a week now-a-days anyway. I head strait to my room and strip for bed. If I'm going to get over to Eric's in the morning I'll need to get my rest. I pull on my sleeping sweat pants and turn out the light.

I toss and turn for probably 15 minutes before deciding that it's just too fucking cold in this house. Apparently SOMEBODY spent the heating bill money on beer again. I feel around on my floor until my hand brushes up against Eric's loaned jacket. I quickly pull it under my sheet and wrestle into it. In a moment I'm much warmer, and as an added bonus I can smell Eric all over the jacket. It doesn't take long before I drift off to sleep snuggled into it.

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I'm awakened by the sound of the front door slamming. Oh, it must be 2:00, bar closing time. I close my eyes and try to force myself back to sleep. But a minute later I can here things in the kitchen being slammed around. Dad's looking for scotch. The noise subsides in a bit. Apparently he's found something. But the noise has roused my mother because I hear their bedroom door squeak open, followed by her footsteps stomping toward the kitchen. Well shit, there goes any hope of getting any sleep tonight... Shouting starts before I can even finish the thought.

"-lazy ass and find a job instead of going out EVERY night Stuart!" I pull my pillow over my head in an attempt to shut out the arguing. All I manage to accomplish is to muffle the words. Well all except the really loudly shouted ones...

"...BITCH...DRIVING ME TO DRINK..."

"...STUPID...WORTHLESS...TWO A.M..."

"...NIT PICKING...LEAVE..."

"...EXAMPLE...YOUR SON...ALL NIGHT..." That causes me to snap my eyes back open again. Please Mom! Don't drag me into this, it's been a long night. But my hopes are in vain as I hear shuffling footsteps approach my door just before it bursts open.

"What the HELL is this I hear about you staying out all night!" my father yells as he fumbles for the light switch. Once he finds it I'm blinded momentarily. "Where the fuck WERE you all night!"

"I should ask you the same thing!" I fire back, rubbing my eyes until I can see properly again. He's found the Jack Daniels apparently, because he's got the bottle clutched in his fist.

"Don't talk back to ME you little shit! I'M 38 years old, you're only fifteen!" I don't bother correcting him that I won't actually be turning fifteen for another five days. "ANSWER ME!"

"I was in Denver with Eric and his mom alright. Let it rest."

"And you didn't think to ask US first!" he says taking another step into my room. And I'm so tired I don't think before I speak.

"You've never cared about where I go in the past. And I would have CALLED, but we don't have a phone!" As soon as the words leave my mouth I wish I could shovel them back in.

"YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE BASTARD!" he snarls striding forward and grabbing a hold of my wrist with his empty hand. One heave is all it takes to yank me out from under my sheet and into the air dangling in front of his face from his grip.

"Just let go of me and GO TO BED Dad!" I yell as he scans me with an angry eye. I can smell the foul smell of alcohol on his breath as he begins to seethe with anger.

"WHO'S CLOTHES ARE YOU WEARING YOU DIRTY LITTLE FAG?" He shakes me back and forth in the air. I claw at the painful grip he has on my wrist but I don't justify his idiocy with an answer. The painful grip disappears as he tosses me to the floor. I land hard on my shoulder.

"You fucker!" I hiss in pain, dragging myself to my feet, ready to make a run for it.

"I've told you before that I won't STAND for that kind of SICK BEHAVIOR from a son of mine!" His fist connects with my face sending me back onto the floor. I can feel a stream of blood trickle down my nose and I'm suddenly reminded of Eric punching Stan all those months ago. "I Didn't RAISE you to be a cock sucking FAIRY!" My father continues to yell.

"You didn't raise me at ALL you asshole!" I accuse as I work my way up onto my knees. I'll be harder for him to hit if I'm not standing. "YOU WERE TOO BUSY BEING AN OUT OF WORK ALCOHOLIC TO RAISE ME! Eric's mother raised me better than you ever could ha-" My rant is cut short as he tackles me, leaving me once again flat on my back.

"I WON'T BE TALKED TO LIKE THAT BY A QUEER!" He grabs a hold of a chunk of my hair and slams my head onto the floor. He does it again, and again, and again. My head feels like it's about to spilt open and I can feel a wetness in my hair by the time he finally takes a break to continue screeching at me. "ARE YOU FUCKING THAT FAT FREAK OF NATURE? IS THAT WHY YOU'RE ALWAYS TURNING UP IN HIS CLOTHES? I'LL KILL THAT BASTARD!" Anger boils in my blood. I ball my fist and for the first time in my life I throw a punch at my father. I catch him in the jaw, but it's not enough to dislocate him from where he's stooped over me with his hand unoccupied by the J.D. bottle balled in my hair. So I do the only other thing I can think of. I scream right back at him.

"IT'S MY LIFE! Weather of not I'm sleeping with anyone is NONE OF YOUR GODDAMN FUCKING BUSINESS! But yeah dad, I think I might be GAY! You're just going to have to deal with it!" There is this murderous look of hatred in his eyes as he pulls his arm back and slams his fist into my face again. This time he scores on my eye. I bite back a yelp of pain and turn my face to the side to avoid getting my nose broken by the next blow. I struggle to get up and escape him but he throws his weight onto me and pounds his fist into me again. He catches me right in the ear. All I can hear is a ringing sound as he brings his fist up andit connectswith my ear again. After around the sixth time his fist slams into the side of my head the ringing suddenly stops and I can't help but wonder if he's finally managed to beat me to death. Will I come back this time?

"Don't you ignore me!" The yelling sounds strange now somehow... "You'd better take it back! You'd better tell me you're NOT a fag damn it!" It almost sounds like his voice is coming out of bad speakers or something. Dad apparently takes my silence as defiance because he socks me again. I can feel blood trickling down through my hair, he hits me again. Blood is running down from my cheek, he hits me again. And I can see a pool of red forming on the floor from my ear, he hits me again.

"I...I." I feel like I'm suffocating but I force out the three most important words I can think of at the moment. "I...love Eric." The bottle of Jack Daniels that my father has been clinging to this whole time is slammed against my face. I can hear the strangely muffled crash of glass breaking and feel the familiar pain of glass imbedding itself into my skin as things around me go black...

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Cartman's POV

When I fell asleep last night I knew that I would be doomed to bad dreams. Luckily for me I can't really remember any of them in detail now. But I know that they were bad because I feel unrested, like I didn't sleep at all really. It's still dark out but the darkness seems to fit my mood... My eyes sweep across my room until I finally let them rest on my clock. 6:13. I wonder if Mom got any sleep last night. I strain my ears, willing them to hear any signs of movement around the house...

People each make different sounds when they sleep, and for some reason when I'm laying awake at night I pick up on the sound easily. I'm told that I'm a classic soft snorer. Kenny makes a tiny whistling noise when he breaths in his sleep. Jew boy sort of hums when he exhales and Stan makes the stereotypical buzz saw noise. Even Pip makes a sort of chirp, though I'm not sure quite how it works. But my mother is a silent sleeper. She doesn't even really breath loud enough to hear. So after several minutes of listening and hearing nothing I give it up. It's a lost cause since my door is closed anyway. I throw my covers off and swing my feet to the floor. The light switch eludes me for a short amount of time before the room is showered in brightness and a yawn escapes me as I shuffle quietly into the hallway. Her door is cracked open a bit so I put my eye to it and look in on her. Sound asleep, thank god. But now that I'm up I head for the bathroom to get the taste of unbrushed teeth out of my mouth...

Kenny would be coming over this morning, I remember while brushing. When Kenny says he's coming over 'in the morning' that insane ass munch usually means somewhere around 7:00, even on the weekend when any normal kid would want to sleep in. So after rinsing my mouth out I head to the kitchen in search of omelet ingredients. Making breakfast will keep my mind off of things I'd rather not think about right now...

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Kyle's POV

When I was still in 4th grade I jumped off of my roof to stop a serial killer. Well... actually there was a bit more to it than that. Since the whole police department of our town seemed to think that Cartman was some sort of psychic detective at the time no one would listen to me when I discovered who the killer really was. So I jumped off of a roof, fell into a coma, and then claimed to have psychic powers too. It all worked out how I wanted in the end, except for one thing. Those psychic powers that I made up sometimes seem real.

It only showed up once right after the killer had been caught. I somehow managed to cause a shelf to fall and some light bulbs to explode, but I managed to convince myself that it was some sort of coincidence. After all that's what ANY so called psychic phenomenon really is, right? But as I've gotten older I've started to feel things. When something bad happens to someone I'm close to... I can tell somehow without actually having any knowledge of what's wrong. Like when Cartman's mother was first diagnosed with AIDS, or when my cousin Kyle was killed in a plane crash. I could FEEL that something awful had happened before we got the terrible phone call. I've never told anyone about the strange power. Not even Stan.

But the dream that I just awoke from... I'm scared and I'm not sure what to do. I try to slow my shuttering breaths and remember all that I can. The dream was about Kenny. Kenny was dying... No, he was being murdered! That sickening feeling that something is wrong with the force is back too, confirming that it wasn't just some nightmare. What should I do? Shit shit shit!

I throw my sheets away from my body and grab my phone. I dial in the only number I can think of when things concern Kenny and snag a pair of pants off of my floor while I listen to the rings. I'm hopping on one leg while pulling on the pants when I finally get an answer.

"What the hell are you calling my house at...6:30 in the fucking morning for Jew?" I struggle to maintain my balance as I continue to pull on my jeans.

"Cartman you need to meet me at Kenny's right now!" I finish with the jeans I slip my feet into my bedroom slippers and start groping around for a sweater.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Cartman hisses from the other end of the line.

"Something bad has happened to Kenny. Just trust me!" I sound hysterical, even to myself. Finding a button up shirt, I throw it on. "Just hurry Cartman. I'm leaving right now!" I hang up my phone and race down the stairs. I grab my mother's cell phone from the charger and my jacket and race out the door, praying that Cartman takes me seriously enough to come.

It's below freezing, I realize as I'm exposed to the air outside. I fumble to pull my hood around my head as I sprint toward the poor side of town. I can feel water seeping through my slippers after a few blocks but ignore it. I can't get the image of Kenny in a puddle of blood out of my mind... As I reach Cartman's street I see him exit his house ahead of me. Fore some reason the feeling of dread I've been feeling lessens slightly at the sight. He starts jogging in the direction I'm headed and I call out to him. He slows and allows me to catch up.

"Kyle I swear if this is some sort...of Jewish April Fools.. sort of thing I'll kick you in the nuts!" But under the harsh words I can see worry on his face, along with signs that he didn't get much sleep last night.

"Just call it a feeling I have Cartman. If I'm wrong you can have a free shot." We run the last blocks to the train tracks in worried silence.

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Poor Kenny…. That's all for this chapter. I know, I know. Another cliff hanger. Sorry. But stay tuned for the next installment… Chapter 7: 'The Thought Provoking Poetry of Kenny McCormick'


	7. The Thought Provoking Poetry of Kenny

**_In it for the Long Haul_**

**Chapter 7:**

"The Thought Provoking Poetry of Kenny McCormick"

_Chapter Rating_:

PG / PG13 depending on whose judgment you're using

_Story Notes:_

All of the poetry in this chapter is written by me, except 'Hip Hop' which my husband wrote.  
Also, for those of you that claim that their eyes were burned from last chapter's slash: I WARNED YOU in the first chapter that this story would have a dash of slash. So you can't blame your sudden need for laser corrective surgery on ME!  
I'd also like to just sort of randomly point out that this chapter has been the hardest one for me to write so far. And it felt weird writing this chapter because I also ended up writing a big chunk of the epilog at the same time. Anyway, we left Kenny in a pretty bad place last chapter so lets dive right back into it...

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_Cartman's POV_

_The pounding of a hammer building a cradle  
__The pounding of a hammer building a casket  
__They sound the same to me._

_Kenny McCormick's Physics notebook - 9th grade_

When we get to Kenny's front door Kyle comes to a stop, probably unsure of how to proceed. I step past the wuss and pound on the door. When I don't get a response I go to the dirty window and look inside. I can see Kevin sitting, unblinking, staring at the black and white TV so I rap on the window.

"KEVIN! Get your stoned ass over here and let us IN!" I yell at the window. His eyes flicker toward the sound of my voice for a moment but he ignores me. "KEVIN! If you don't let me in I swear I'll call the police on you, ya weed smoker!" He turns his head toward me this time but he still doesn't make a move to get up. "Stupid mushroom eating hippy" I mutter.

"What do we do now?" Kyle sounds like he is about to have a panic attack.

"We go in anyway dumbass." I step back to the doorway and turn the knob. As usual the lock gives way after a few hard yanks. I walk into Kenny's shitty house and growl at Kevin, who has tuned us out completely by now. Moving past him, Kyle rushes to Kenny's room with me at his heels. He doesn't even bother knocking on his bedroom door, he just pushes it open.

The two of us freeze in his doorway when we see him. Oh Christ...oh Jesus fucking Christ... Kenny is sprawled on his back on the floor. His face is turned to one side, facing away from us. But the blood... there is a small pool of blood under his head. The room almost smells of death, and there is broken glass...everywhere. I rush forward and drop to my knees next to him so that I can see his face. "Oh fucking god" I whimper at the sight. The right side of his face is a mess of torn up skin and imbedded glass. It's sticking everywhere. It's sticking out of his cheek, out of his ear...and out of his eye.

I can feel tiers start forming in my own eyes and I feel nauseous. "Call a goddamn ambulance!" I hiss at Kyle. I can hear him start hitting buttons on his mother's cell phone. "Kenny?" I call to him in my most soothing voice. I don't get a response. His nose looks like it's broken and there's dark blood dried under it. I can see bruises forming all over my best friend's face and his mouth and chin are coated in more blood. It trails down his neck, meeting and mingling with the blood from the wounds there.

"They are on the way" Kyle whispers dropping to his knees next to Kenny too. "Is...is he a-alive?"

"I...I don't know." I haven't seen him move.

Kyle gently lifts Kenny's wrist and places two of his fingers against it. I've seen people do that on television before so I know that he's checking for a pulse. Seconds slip by like hours before he breaths a relieved sigh. "I can feel his heart beating." Kyle and I share a tense smile.

I brush Kenny's blood spattered bangs out of his face but that only reveals more bruises and tiny cuts. Sirens are suddenly audible in the distance.

"I'll meet the paramedics outside" I hear Kyle mutter. He pushes himself back to his feet and dashes silently out of the room. I grasp Kenny's hand and give it a reassuring but gentle squeeze. "You're gonna make it buddy" I whisper. It's then that I finally notice that he is wearing my old coat still. The sirens outside have gotten louder, but all I can do is stare, suddenly understanding what must have happened to my best friend.

"What the hell is all that racket?" A voice demands from a second room. Anger suddenly boils in my blood. That voice belongs to the man who beat his son nearly to death. The voice is of a man who nearly stole my closest confidant from me, and no one steals from me and gets away with it!

"Sounds like an ambulance or something Stuart. Just fucking go back to sleep" the voice of Kenny's mother answers back. There is a pause and then the sound of rustling bed sheets.

"Oh shit!" I hear him cry followed by staggering footsteps. I quickly scan the room for a weapon of some sort. My eyes fall on the neck and bottom of a broken bottle and I snatch them off of the ground, trying desperately to ignore the fact that they're stained red. A second later Kenny's father appears in his son's doorway. By now the ambulance can't be more than a block away by the volume of the siren. I lift the bottle neck and point its sharp red edges at Stuart McCormick.

"YOU! What the HELL did you DO! WHO DID YOU CALL!" he screams taking a step toward us. I jab the sharp object forward toward him and he retreats back to the doorway.

"STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM US! If you come near him again I'll stab you in the GODDAMN heart with this thing!" I threaten. "How could you DO this! He's your SON you cocksucker!"

"The only one in this family that is a cocksucker is HIM! Fucking y--"

I heave the second chunk of glass at him, but it hits the wall next to him instead. He opens his mouth to argue back again but I cut him off. "I should have done this YEARS ago!"

But before either of us has a chance to take the fight farther Kyle's voice comes rushing into the house. "--a pulse, but there's blood everywhere... MOVE!" Kenny's dad enters the room again and sidesteps to make room for Kyle, who is followed by three paramedics and a pair of cops I've never seen before. I still keep my weapon leveled at Stuart. "HIM" Kyle roars, pointing an accusing finger at Kenny's father. The policemen look over to Stuart and then to me with questioning looks.

"He has been beating up Kenny for years." I blurt out. "He stays over at my house until things blow over usually. You can call my mother and confirm it with her if you need to."

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_Two cracked ribs. A dislocated shoulder. Eight stitches on the lower lip. A Broken nose. Thirteen stitches on the nose. A mild concussion. Seven stitches on the right jaw. Twenty-three stitches along the right cheek. Twenty stitches on the right ear. Slight swelling of the brain. Nine stitches to the back of the head. Pulled muscle in the neck. Four stitches on the neck... _The list of what the doctors had diagnosed and treated after several hours it the hospital is a long one. And I want to throw up at the last two things.

_Loss of hearing in the right ear. Loss of the right eye_.

I've failed Kenny as a friend. He is in observation and emergency surgery alert right now to prevent damage to his brain from swelling, and I could have prevented it all from happening. And all I can do now is sit here and hope that he wakes up again so that I can tell him how sorry I am.

Kyle is sitting next to me in the waiting room with a necklace clutched in his hands, praying. I don't understand what he's saying so it must be in Hebrew. For once I don't even feel angry about his religion. Maybe it'll do Kenny some good to have two gods watching over him right now. Even if Kyle's God probably does not exist.

Mother is in a different waiting area talking to a detective. They'd called her soon after Kenny was rolled into the unsuccessful surgery attempting to save his eye and I haven't seen her since. I assume that they're asking her all about the times Kenny showed up at our house beaten up...

"You shouldn't blame yourself Cartman" Kyle says out of the blue.

"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch if he ever gets out of jail Kyle. I would have done it today..." He places a comforting hand on my shoulder, but I shake it off.

"Then I'll hold him down while you do."

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_Some people cry at funerals and smile at weddings  
__Some people smile at funerals and cry at weddings  
__I think I'll laugh at both._

_Kenny McCormick's Speech notebook - 9th grade_

It's almost 8:00 at night when a nurse accompanied by my mother shakes me awake in my chair to tell me that Kenny just woke up. "He asked to see you and your mother." I feel instantly alert upon hearing that and nudge Kyle awake too.

"Kenny is awake Kosher boy. Lets go."

The nurse escorts the three of us down several different corridors until she halts in front of room #113. The plaque thing outside the door says _K. McCormick: Recovery / Observation_. When the three of us enter I gasp in stereo with Kyle. It's hard to decide if Kenny looks better or worse now than when we'd found him. The blood and glass has all been washed away, but it has been replaced with tubes and wires feeding into Kenny's arms and attached to his forehead. His long blond hair has been shaved off in several areas for his monitoring equipment. There are tiny black stitches all along the right side of his face and bandages covering his injured ear and where his right eye used to be.

Kenny is watching us as we shuffle over to his left side so that he can see and hear us better. "You guys.. saved me." His voice is horse and raspy. The nurse puts a straw to his lips and Kenny swallows a few gulps of water and winces before he continues. "I thought... that he was really going to.. kill me this time."

"Oh sweetheart I'm so sorry that this happened" Mom says taking his hand. "It should have been my job as an adult to make sure that your father didn't hit you again after the first time you came over hurt. I'm so sorry Kenny."

"This isn't...your fault. I told you not to…tell." My mother nods, but she is tearing up all the same. "I wanted to know...what happened with my dad...and what about...Mom and Kevin? The nurse said you were...talking to the police."

"He is in jail sweetie, where he belongs. And as far as I know the police are still questioning your mother."

"Could you go tell the...police that I'd like to see her if I can? After...I talk to Eric and...Kyle."

Mom smiles the best that she can and nods. "Of course hon. If that's what you want." She releases Kenny's hand and motions for the nurse to leave the three of us alone.

"Is she doing ok Eric?" he asks when he is sure she's out of ear shot. Leave it to Kenny to be worried about my mother when he's just gotten out of surgery himself. "I wish this could have... happened any other time but right…now.."

"It shouldn't have happened at all!" Kyle and I blurt out as one.

"It feels weird though" he continues. "I can't really feel... anything. I got the shit kicked out of me and...I should feel like...shit, you know? They've got me so... doped up on pain killers...that I can't really move... When I first woke up...I thought that maybe I'd...been paralyzed." He stops and eyes his drink again. Kyle hastily retrieves it from where it sits and Kenny sips down another mouthful of water from the straw.

"So what have they told you?" Kyle asks after setting the water back down.

"That's part of... the reason I wanted to talk to you... guys alone. The doctor won't really...tell me anything. Other than I'm...not paralyzed. How bad is it?"

"They haven't told you ANYTHING?" I ask feeling numb. He doesn't know!

"It's bad...isn't it?" There is a nervous tone to his voice now. It makes me angry. Angry that no one even bothered to explain to Kenny what had happened to him.

"Go get a mirror Kyle."

"That might not be the best thing for him right now Cart-"

"I said go get him a fucking mirror Kyle!" I hiss, cutting off any argument. His eyes widen for a moment at my anger but he rushes to the room's bathroom.

"Eric?" He's scared.

"It looks pretty bad right now." I pause, choosing my words carefully. "But the stitches will be gone after a couple weeks. And the bruises will fade away just like they always have..." Kyle comes back holding a medicine cabinet sized mirror at his side. I can tell by his expression that he still disapproves of this.

"But?" Kenny prompts. My voice seems to stumble over my tongue and nothing comes out to answer him. I can only grasp his hand.

"Your dad broke a bottle in your face Kenny, right before you passed out" the Jew speaks up. And not for the first time today I wonder how Kyle seems to KNOW these things. "The glass, well, it stuck in everywhere." He holds the mirror up and sets it to rest carefully on Kenny's knees. I hear Kenny's loud intake of breath and watch his visible eye go wide.

"Holy shit." It only comes out as a whisper. His eye darts around the mirror, taking in all the damage. After about a minute of examining himself he looks back up at us. "There's more you aren't...telling me. What is the patch...hiding?" The heart monitor that has been beeping away a steady rhythm this whole time in the background starts to speed up. "What is it h-hiding?" he repeats.

"Kenny you need to calm down" Kyle begs. My best friend's eye darts to me and I nod, agreeing with Kyle. He takes several deep breaths, keeping his gaze locked on me. His breathing and the beeping of the heart monitor are the only audible sounds for several minutes. Eventually the beep slows. We continue to sit in silence until Kenny finally speaks again.

"Did you guys know…that I was born on Friday the 13th? Right...after midnight actually. I was...probably the first baby...born that day... I've always had really terrible...luck too, you know?" Tiers have started to slide down his cheek, but he still stares at me as he continues. "I've been...burned to death and sent to...hell, I've been turned into…a zombie and cut in half...with a chainsaw, I've died of a genetic...muscular disease, I've been...crushed to death, been impaled,...I've exploded, drowned, been shot, electrocuted, and...run over. And it...wasn't until it all just sort of ...stopped happening that...I realized that I'm not really all that…scared of death. But I am scared of not…knowing this you guys. Please?"

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_Kenny's POV_

_I know there are so many ways of dying.  
__If I told you that they all hurt I'd be lying.  
__And a few are more painful than the rest.  
__But now I need to get this off of my chest.  
__You used to cast my death aside like nothing and forget me.  
__But then the next day I'd somehow be back so I just let it be.  
__It hurt to think that my friends and family didn't seem to care.  
__And in my heart sometimes it felt like it was too much to bear._

_Kenny McCormick's personal poetry notebook - 8th grade_

When I finally look back into the mirror Kyle is hesitantly holding up for me again the first thing I think is that I may have been better off dying. My breath is coming in short bursts and the heart monitor speeds up again. I can hear Kyle berating Eric for letting me see myself while Eric whispers calming things in my ear. I can't really make out either of their words. The only thing I can concentrate on is the mirror, and the terrible gaping...hole...in my face. I want desperately to touch it, to prove that it isn't real, but I still can't seem to lift my limbs. God damn pain killers! But now at least I know why I'm on so many. Anything that looks this horrible must be painful…

"What are you children doing?" comes a loud voice that I recognize as my doctor. But I can't see him because he's out of my field of vision. Kyle and Eric's heads immediately turn toward the source of the voice though and their eyes widen.

"KENNY?" My mother's voice seems to fill the room. A few seconds later she's in front of me. Her eyes are wide and the look on her face is one of shock, anger, horror, and disgust. I can see her eyes trail down to where Eric's hand is still gripping mine. "Your father was right!" she spits and turns to leave. I feel a terrible tightening in my chest at her words and the room suddenly gets blurry. A wetness trickles down my face despite my best efforts not to cry. I don't even have the strength to wipe the tiers away which makes the them come faster. My heart hurts...

"I'm sorry" I sob, suddenly feeling groggy.

"You bitch!" Kyle growls. I don't hear any response, she must have walked out. My mother could never love a faggot son... She doesn't love me anymore. And I won't be able to go home now. She'll throw me onto the street and I'll die of hypothermia. She'll get Dad out of jail and then he'll come to finish what he started. Not only for being a fag but for getting him arrested too. Oh God! No one loves me anymore! Things around me are starting to get dark.

"Mom...please... I'm sorry..." Jesus, why couldn't I have just died? Why couldn't I have just died? Things slip quickly into blackness.

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_Hip Hop  
__Flipity Flop  
__Off your rocker  
__And over the top  
__Life is a fiction  
__The world is a lie  
__So fuck this world  
__And lets all get high_

_Kenny McCormick's science notebook - 5th grade_

When I wake up I discover several things very quickly. I've obviously regained my ability to move, since I've bolted upright in my bed due to the nightmare that woke me. But about a quarter of a second after I make that happy discovery I also discover that I have a pounding headache. I lay back down in an attempt to lessen the ache but discover that my neck and back are also in a fair amount of pain. Hell, my entire face hurts too to be honest.

In the movies when someone wakes up in the hospital they usually can't remember why they are there at first. Real life is nothing like the cliches of movies. I can remember every horrible feeling I felt when my mother stormed out of this room. '_Your father was right_' is now permanently etched into my consciousness. I'm not sure how long I've been out, but the sky outside my window is the color of either sunrise or sunset right now.

After looking out of the window for what feels like hours a nurse comes in and tries talking to me about how I'll be feeling today, since it is apparently sunrise after all. But I'm too focused on the jackhammer in my brain and my own personal thoughts to really pick up on more than the basic concept. I'll be taking pain pills from now on instead of being doped up on whatever it was I was on yesterday. I am handed a pill that she calls Vicodin and a paper cup with some water.

"You're going to want to take that right away sweety. Before the Morphine wears completely off" the nurse says, smiling at me. That gets my attention! Apparently I'm not even fully in pain yet. So I shakily place the tiny white pill on my tongue and drink down all of the water in the cup. "Just give that about an hour hon. You'll feel much better."

'_Much better_' Yeah right. This nurse doesn't seem to know that in the span of the last day and a half I've been beaten half to death by my father, been disowned by my gay hating mother, was in a coma, found out that the closest thing I have to a real mother is going to die in less than two years, and lost an eye. One little pill is not going to make me feel '_much better_' any time soon lady! The sour look I'm giving the nurse is enough to get her to hurry from the room with other important things to do. All I can do is lay back down, careful of my tender neck, and wait for this wonder drug to kick in...

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The end of yet another chapter. How am I doing guys? Still interested? Chapter 8: '_A Shiny Blue One'_ is already in the works. So stay tuned!

Anyway, I also wanted to add a bit of a note here at the end of the story concerning Vicodin. Vicodin is both a blessing and a bitch. When my husband injured his back a week before our wedding he was prescribed Vicodin so that we could go through with the wedding. He was even able to dance with me, which would have been impossible otherwise due to his pain... But I have also had coworkers that have become addicted to it accidently. Vicodin is in some ways even more addictive than crack and it can happen in the span of only two days of accidental misuse. So please use Vicodin responsibly!


	8. Everything He Owns Fits In 2 Paper Bags

_**In it for the Long Haul**_

**Chapter 8:  
**"Everything He Owns Fits In Two Paper Bags"

_Chapter Rating_:  
PG

_Story Notes:  
_This was another chapter that I struggled to write. I ended up redoing this chapter a few times before I got it right.

_To recap the story thus far:  
_In chapter one the boys are just about to graduate from middle school and are choosing highschool classes. We find out that Kyle has punked his look, that Stan and Wendy are together again, and that Kenny has vowed to become a success and escape his abusive family. As we went on, Stan convinced everyone to befriend a surprised Pip, becoming a fivesome. And we discovered that Cartman's mother only has a few years to live.

In chapter four the fivesome (and Wendy) desperately tried to protect both Pip from the bullies of South Park and themselves from the natives of North Park High School, a city that HATES South Park. After a shocking one-two punch from Pip though, the group was accepted leaving the rest of their class who had abandoned them to fend for themselves. At the end of the first half of the school year Cartman wins both $50 and a bit of respect from Kyle, only to receive more devastating news about his mother's condition that same night. Kenny has a revelation that proves his father's angry accusations about being a fag true and he is beaten to within an inch of his life and left to die. Kyle and Cartman find him and get him to a hospital in time to save Kenny's life but he'll be disfigured for the rest of his life...

* * *

_Kyle's POV_

To say that my mother was pissed off about my sudden disappearance yesterday morning would be an understatement. To say that she was ready to pack up my things and send me to a religious boarding school somewhere in Tibet because I'd supposedly become a delinquent would be a closer bet... It probably didn't help matters that the first thing I did when I walked into the house instead of giving an immediate explanation of my whereabouts and begging for her forgiveness was to try to get a hold of Stan, Wendy, and Pip at the big party of the weekend at Lee Anderson's.

She just stood there screeching at me while I talked over her voice to Stan on the phone letting him know the basics of what had happened. After he promised to come over with the others in the morning so we could visit Kenny and we'd hung up I was left with nothing to do but listen to her ranting for the rest of the night. But I was just too emotionally drained to even try to explain what had happened to shut her up.

So now that Pip and Stan are standing in our doorway this morning she's trying to tell me that I can't go. I look to my father, but as usual he doesn't seem to want to say anything to contradict her.

"You can't just go running off with your friends whenever you feel like it young man" she says as I continue to stare pleadingly at my father. He looks at my mother nervously but finally gives his input.

"Shiela, it's not for playing. Their little poor friend is in the hospital. There was a write-up about what happened in the paper this morning.." He trails off, leaving no actual strength to his statement.

"The answer is NO Kyle." Stan has an angry look on his face, like he is about to say something to her in my defense. But I quickly cut him off.

"You know what Mom? Screw you! I'm going, and you can't do anything to stop me." I motion my two stunned friends toward the door. But before I can make a move myself she catches a hold of my wrist.

"This delinquent act of yours has gone on long enough mister. I won't be talked to like that in my own house, and--" A strong jerk of my arm frees me from her grip and cuts off her newest rant. My mother's eyes go wide.

"I'm going" I repeat and walk out the door. But before closing it I have one more thing for her to think about. "You know Mother, I'll remember this day if something terrible happens and YOU'RE ever hospitalized. Since apparently only delinquents want to visit those they care about more than once." I slam the door behind me.

The walk to Wendy's house cools me off for the most part and as the four of us make our way to the hospital I fill them in on more details of yesterday's events.

"But what about Eric? I would think that he would want to visit Kenneth today also. They are best friends after all" Pip asks as we reach the doors of Hell's Pass.

"Cartman is a master of manipulating the rules Pip. He convinced the hospital to let him stay overnight in the waiting room. I'm sure that he's been in there with Kenny since he woke up this morning.

As we approach room 113 I can hear Kenny's familiar voice in the hallway.

"Did you know that there are 156 ceiling tiles in this room?" There is a pause but no response. "I can't think of anything that rhymes with 156 tiles though." Again there is a pause with no answer. "...For my poem, you know."

The sight that greets us is nothing like what I had expected. Kenny is laying propped up with several pillows in his bed wearing white pajamas with a few green strips. The bandage covering his eye has been kept off and the void where his right eye once was is staring us in the face. Surrounding him on the bed are several dictionaries and thesauruses. They all are propped open with bits of paper marking different pages. A stack of notebooks and an open box of scattered mechanical pencils are also at his side. There are also several coloring books and markers strewn near the foot of the bed. A purple marker is actually being clutched between his toes. Three hastily quieted gasps behind me are proof that the others are looking at Kenny's face rather than this strange collection of items littering his hospital bed.

Kenny looks up from the notebook he has been scribbling away in since we stepped into the room at the sound. "Hi Kyle! Hi Stan! Hey Pip! How's it going Wendy!" He waves enthusiastically to each of us in turn with his uninjured wrist, grinning like a madman. "Eric and I were just writing poetry. You want to join us?" He giggles. "It'll be a poetry orgy."

"Dude" Stan whispers to us, "Cartman isn't even here."

"He's on a quest to find a word that rhymes with 156 tiles" Kenny responds, having apparently heard Stan. He pauses and seems to be thinking hard about something. "Oh, and getting food too I think."

"You're damn right food too" comes a familiar voice behind us. "So if you guys could please get the hell out of the doorway I'll be getting back to babysitting this crack head." Cartman sidesteps past us carrying two cans of pop in one hand and several vending machine sized bags of snack food in the other. "So are you guys here to visit or to take up space in the doorway?" he asks us over his shoulder before turning his attention to Kenny.

"What the heck happened to Kenny Cartman?"

"He's being a crack head because the doctors gave him painkillers, that's what happened to him. He has been all giddy and yammering on and on about poetry nonstop for... What time is it anyway?"

"10:10" Pip answers looking at his watch.

"..over three hours now.

"Painkillers did THAT?" Wendy blurts out, pointing to the dreamy expression on Kenny's disfigured face.

"No, his father did most of that. The Vicodin only added the dopy grin" Cartman answers with narrowed eyes that clearly show that he wants to drop the subject.

"VICODIN!" Stan gasps. "No wonder he's so happy after all that happened yesterday. That stuff can fuck with your emotions. The coach made this whole big lecture about painkillers mid-season because a couple of the seniors were popping Vicodin. He said that they make you feel no pain even if your back was injured, or your leg fractured. But they also make you feel like nothing is wrong emotionally. You could get dumped and have your house burn down on the same day and you'd still feel on top of the world."

* * *

Despite how the Vicodin made it seem unnecessary, Kenny ended up being restricted to bed rest at the hospital for another eight days. He is supposed to be let out tonight though, so Stan and I are making a trip to Kenny's house to get his things. As Stan knocks on the door I can't help but hope that Kenny's mom has come to her senses. But any hope of that goes down the drain when she answers the door.

"What are you doing here?" she hisses, clearly irate.

"We were hoping to come and collect Kenny's things" I answer her. "He's moving in with the Cartmans in case you hadn't been told and--"

"Look! I told all you people when I signed the paperwork. I don't want to hear anything more about what happens in that little bastard's life, alright! I don't care where he goes or what happens to him. Just go get whatever you think he wants..."

It takes a lot of my self control not to start screaming at her. But we both manage to hold our opinions to ourselves and we head to Kenny's room. The two of us quickly start throwing what little wearable clothing Kenny owns into a grocery bag we've brought. Most of it is either threadbare from being stretched to fit him as he grew or much too big to fit him because they were Kevin's castoffs. Into the next bag goes a few paperback books that are laying scattered around his room. The copies of _Lord of the Flies_, and _The Incarnations of Immortality_ in particular strike me as very Kenny-like choices. Next we search around for all of Kenny's notebooks that we know to be filled with his poetry and writing. After finding nearly two dozen of them we scan the room for anything else he might value. Not finding anything, Stan hefts Kenny's school backpack onto his back and we turn to leave.

"It's sad" he said. "Everything he owns fits in two paper bags. I know that if I had to move it would--" Stan stops abruptly as I step down on something littered on Kenny's floor and a loud crack sounds out under my feet. I bend over and pick the item up. It's a tarnished picture frame. Looped around the frame several times in order to secure it in place is a necklace in the shape of half a heart with the letters _F. F._ engraved onto it... Kenny and Cartman's Best Friends Forever necklace. The picture inside the frame is a copy of one of the many pictures Cartman's mom had taken at our middle school graduation. This one is of all four of us standing together with our little fake diplomas, sticking our tongues out. I look back up at Stan, who has a soft smile on his face at the sight of the picture. We silently add the picture frame to the top of the second bag.

* * *

Yes, I realize that it's been forever and a day since my last update. Real life has kept me quite busy, and while that hasn't kept me from writing, it HAS kept me from any of my more **involved** projects. And this story suffered a bit of hibernation time. It will probably be another wait for another chapter. Lets just say that several life changing things are coming up soon... 


End file.
